The Four Dragon Kings
by Draconius du Vryle
Summary: A mysterious stranger arrives at the doors of Hogwarts with an message that could change the Wizarding World forever. Four young students have the power to change the world, but they don't know it! Will magic be eradicated or preserved? Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Everything belongs to the talented J.K. Rowling and Mr. J. R.R. Tolkien. Hello readers.

This is my first cross-over so if you review, please be nice. This takes place during the Tri-Wizard Tournament and it may be a little bit OOC, but if you give me some feedback I will gladly take any suggestions that you may have. Thank you and don't forget to review. On with the show.

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><p>Evening was beginning to set over the cliffs of the English countryside, and with the setting of the sun came the distinct chill of the coming autumn. The sun threw its last rays over the green hillocks and rises on top of the cliffs and finally sank behind the horizon. No sooner had it set, than the wind began to pick up and gently pummel the land with its frigid bite. However, something in the wind this night seemed ominous, as though it were giving warning of the coming of unseen danger. As they were buffeted, one cliff in particular could easily bring attention to itself. Beneath it was nestled a large lake that housed a beast of unnatural proportions. This gargantuan lake guardian could feel the foreboding bite of the air and it did not sit well with it. The creature let its frustration be known by slapping the water repeatedly which made wakes that crashed into the cliffside with a sound like small thunderclaps. Each wake grew higher and higher as the beast's frustration grew until one particularly large one hit nearly halfway up the tall rock. Looking up treacherous rock-face that the lake guardian seemed bent on destroying was perched on the cliff a giant stone castle. This structure stood against the evening sky like a towering fortress ready to take on all who might oppose it and the highest turret pointed upwards as though it were the castle's great sword ready to fall on its enemies. However, it was not as menacing as one might think. Between the castles strong stone bricks there would occasionally peek out a glimmer of golden light through glass windows betraying the fact that there was, indeed, life residing within the halls. Even more amazing was that if you were to walk inside, you might be shocked as to whom the inhabitants were that made up the majority of the population of this stone fortress: children. Almost everywhere there were children running through the halls, each of them dressed in black robes and uniforms. For, you see, this great ancient castle was none other than a school. What's more, it was a school for learning magic. This place had been dubbed 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' and there was no other place like it in the whole world. The school had been divided up into four different houses, each with their own emblem: a fierce looking badger of yellow and black, a magnificent raven of royal blue and shimmering ebony, a cunning snake of shining silver on a poison green background, and a triumphant red griffin on a background of glimmering gold. Each of these emblems spoke, not only of which house the student belonged to, but also to the traits that they had which had resulted in them being there in the first place. Yes, what resided within the walls was truly 'magical' but it was what was beyond the walls that would ensure that Hogwarts would never be the same again. On the other side of the castle stood a forest that was home to many creatures, some good some evil, but what came out of those trees that night was more mysterious than any of the students or teachers inside the school could ever suspect. Not long after evening had fallen, a figure stepped out of the forest and began to make its way to the great doors of the castle. This figure was human in shape, but moved more gracefully than any human ever could and was shrouded beneath a hooded cloak that hid all its features. Not only did the cloak hide this person's identity, it also seemed to blend into the surroundings making its wearer difficult to pick out. Whoever it might have been, this person moved with a purpose and nothing would keep him from his mission. The human-who-was-not-quite-human stopped only once about halfway to the castle to kneel down and pluck a bit of sod from the earth. The clump of earth was brought to an unseen nose and smelled like it was a precious perfume to be treasured, but then the figure seemed to grimace as though it had suddenly turned sour. The person replaced the sod from where it had been acquired and continued on his journey. When he reached the doors, he grabbed one of the brass knockers and brought it down on the hard wood which resounded in a hollow booming sound. The knock summoned the castle caretaker, a grouchy old man with a careworn face, scraggly hair, and a frown that seemed permanently etched onto his mouth. He opened the door and asked,<p>

"Whaddoyawant?"

The figure replied in a voice that betrayed the female gender,

"I have come to speak to the master of this castle. I have an important message that I must deliver."

"'Oo are ye?"

"A friend with urgent news."

The caretaker retorted,

"It's customary to remove one's 'ood when addressing someone. I can't even see your nose."

"Of course. My apologies."

The figure lowered the hood and long brown hair the color of tree bark tumbled out of it, two clear dark-brown eyes shone in the night, and a woman's face that bore a look of urgency was revealed. The caretaker looked menacingly at the figure, which he now knew to be a woman, and said,

"The 'eadmaster is busy a' the moment, and 'eel not be disturbed. Good night."

He tried to shut the door, but the woman placed her hand on it and she repeated,

"I have an important message that must be delivered tonight."

The caretaker glared at the woman with a long-practiced scowl that usually brought unruly children back into line, but she was not to be moved. She continued to look at him calmly which unnerved the caretaker more than he would let on, but he let her inside after a few moments. He continued to glare at her as he said,

"I'll return with the 'eadmaster in a moment. Don't you move from this spot."

"You have my word."

The old man took off down the long hallway and disappeared around the corner. Now left alone, the woman began looking at the portraits that lined the walls of the foyer. Each of them bore the image of people who had some significance to the history of magic, some living, some dead, but all of them had a place of honor on those hallowed halls. There was something unusual about those paintings though. They seemed to move on their own. The strange woman looked up at the image of an old man and, miraculously, it spoke to her. It said,

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"I doubt it, sir. I have never walked these halls."

"I don't know; something about you seems familiar. Ah, but then again my eyes are not what they used to be. So, what business do you have with the Headmaster this evening?"

"I have an urgent message that must be delivered immediately."

"Oh my; sounds dreadfully important."

"It concerns the survival of all magic."

"Well, then I hope that you get the message to him. Well (yawn) I'm going to retire now."

The man in the painting sat down in a chair that was in the also in the portrait, put his chin on his chest and began to doze off. Soon after that, the caretaker appeared with an elderly man in tow. The distinguished figure following behind the grouchy caretaker had a long silver beard, bright blue twinkling eyes partially hidden behind a pair of half-moon glasses and was obviously dressed for bed. When they reached the woman, she looked directly at the old man and asked,

"Are you the master of this castle?"

"I am its Headmaster: Professor Dumbledore at your service, Miss….?"

"My name is better left unknown for now, but I must speak with you immediately."

"It must be dreadfully urgent if I am to woken from a sound sleep and my guest will not give me her name. As a courtesy to me, will you please tell me what I can call you?"

The woman considered for a moment and then she replied,

"You may call me 'Lori' for now."

"Very well, Lori. What is your message?"

"It would be best if we spoke in private. For now, you are the only one who I wish to hear what I have to say."

The Headmaster considered her request and then replied.

"Alright, come with me; we will speak in my office."

He turned to go and Lori followed him down the long hallway from which he had just come. The caretaker tried to follow them, but the Headmaster turned to him and said,

"Thank you, Mr. Filch; that will be all. Please return to your bedchambers."

Reluctantly, the caretaker agreed and left the pair alone. They walked through many twisting halls until the woman began to feel utterly lost in this place. She thought to herself,

"_Not even the Mallorn Trees have this many twists and turns in them. This place is going to take some getting used to_."

Soon they reached a statue of a gilded eagle that had its wings spread as though it were about to take flight. The old man said something to it that made the eagle jump out of the way which revealed a winding flight of stairs. At the top of the staircase there was a magnificent room which held an assortment of treasures from all over the world. Some were magical, some were not, but each of them was unique. The Headmaster went over to a large ornate desk and sat behind it. He looked at the lady and said,

"Please sit down, my dear. Can I offer you some tea?"

"Yes, please; that would be nice."

The Headmaster poured them each a cup of a good strong English brew and after he took a sip he looked at Lori and asked,

"Now then, what do you have to tell me?"

She leaned forward and said,

"You are in grave danger."

"There is not a day that goes by that I am not in some kind of danger or another."

"This danger is not only to you, but to all the world of magic."

"How so?"

"It is best that you know the story from the beginning, so allow me to tell you a story. Long ago, before the existence of the magic that you know today, there were four Dragons. Each of them had power over a single element; the Dragon of the Earth, the Dragon of the Air, the Dragon of Fire and the Dragon of the Water. They were created shortly after the First Children returned to the sea and made the voyage to the Undying Lands to keep the world in balance, however a problem arose. For years these four bickered and argued over who was the strongest of them all. Needless to say, they would constantly have contests with each other to prove their strength and this caused chaos in the world. Finally, the gods had enough of their bickering and decided to bind them so they could no longer plague the people. However this caused more chaos. Without the dragons around, the air became a poisonous fume, the earth grew sour and would not bear fruit, no one could heat their homes or cook their food, and the sea became a veritable death trap for all those who set foot in it. No one was safe so the gods came up with a plan so that the dragons could be freed, but they would not cause chaos. Four mortals were chosen and given the gift of immortality and the power to control the Dragons. This being done, each Dragon was given one of these chosen four to be their king. They were not happy with this decision at first, but as time passed they grew fond of their rulers. Soon after the Four Kings were established, peace returned to the land and the people could live without fear. Several lifetimes passed, and something extraordinary began to happen to some of the people. They figured out how to draw on the power of the Dragons and use that power themselves. They soon discovered that they could not only bend each element to their will, but they could combine elements and make new things happen. It is from this first generation that all wizards today are descended. Anyway, after these people had discovered this power, a select few got greedy and went to the realm where the Four Kings resided. These individuals demanded that the Kings turn dominion of the Dragons over to them and when they refused, a great war ensued and the Four Kings were brutally murdered. Their thrones were usurped by their murderers, and the dragons did not take kindly to that. They tried to rebel against the false kings, but to no avail. However, a ray of hope appeared in the form of the Four King's children. The Kings of Fire, Water and Air each bore a son, and the King of Earth had a daughter. They were hidden after their fathers had been murdered and their power was sealed making them invisible to the false kings, and they have been hidden ever since. Their power has passed down from generation to generation and it is only through the help of the Four Dragons that they can reawaken their power and regain their thrones. There is one more thing and this is the most important; the Dragons have been without their leaders for too long and have begun to grow restless. They have begun to bicker and quarrel again and unless we find the descendants of those first kings, things are going to start getting ugly around here."

"What do you mean by 'ugly'?"

"The magic that you rely upon will become unpredictable and difficult to control. Spells cast will most likely turn on the caster and do them harm. A simple water spell could erupt into a ball of flame or turn into an oak tree in the middle of a classroom. It has already begun. The earth is turning sour and I fear that more than just a little bad dirt will soon follow."

"Do you have an idea of who these four individuals might be?"

"You see, therein lies a problem. Because their power sleeps they cannot be located by any magical means. However, there is one more ray of hope that we have in finding them."

"And what might that be?"

"When the power to control the Dragons was sealed, the gods ensured that there would be a way to find them. They bear the mark of a dragon somewhere on their body; more specifically, the Dragon that they are supposed to have Kingship over."

The Headmaster continued to stare at the lady and asked,

"How do you know that the ones you are looking for are here in Hogwarts? If what you say is true, then they could be anywhere."

"That is another reason that I am here, sir. I was sent here to tell you that the ones that we are looking for are most likely here because of all the places in the world that teach young minds to do magic, this place has seen the real fury and destruction that magic can do both within and outside of its walls. This castle has had siege laid to it time and time again by evil, and my superiors believe that to be no coincidence."

"And who are your superiors?"

She leaned back in her chair and replied,

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

"Let's save that for another time, Headmaster. Now then….what do you plan to do now that you know what danger you are in?"

"You'll forgive me, my dear, if I have a hard time believing this tale. It sounds extraordinary, but it honestly sounds as though you have been reading too many fantasy novels. Nothing has presented itself that would give a clue as to any danger the magic that we use would be in, and until it does then I can believe this to be a well thought-out story and nothing more."

Dumbledore got up from his chair and said,

"I can offer you a place to sleep this evening, but I must ask that you depart in the morning."

He went to return to his bed, but Lori remained seated and said in a voice that commanded authority in a language that had not been heard in thousands of years,

"_Havo dad_, Headmaster."

He whipped around at the sound of the language and said,

"That language…..how do you come to know it? Who are you?"

"I am a messenger sent to warn you of danger. Nothing more."

Dumbledore scrutinized Lori and said,

"How am I to know that you do not bring the danger with you?"

"You can know by this token."

She reached into a pocket on her skirt and pulled out a dull brownish-green object which she placed on the table. The Headmaster picked it up and examined it for a moment before he stated,

"I see nothing remarkable about this."

"That little trinket that you hold is one of the Dragon's scales. It is from the Dragon of the Earth, and that little scale has the power to make a small tree grow. For now, that is the only proof that I can offer of my sincerity."

She got up from her chair and said,

"I have taken enough of your time. Heed my warnings, Headmaster. If the Lost Ones are not found soon, I fear that the shadow of death will descend upon this place and nothing will be able to stop it."

She stepped out from behind her chair and asked,

"Would you do me the honor of escorting me out? I'm afraid that I am unfamiliar with the layout of this castle and I have no wish to be wandering the halls for the remainder of the evening."

"Are you certain that you would not like a place to sleep for the evening?"

"I have a place to rest, sir, but I thank you for your hospitality."

Professor Dumbledore put the 'scale' that she had given him on a bookshelf and escorted Lori out to the entrance of the castle. He opened the doors so that she could leave and bid her farewell. She pulled her cloak back over her head and turned to go, but before she stepped outside Dumbledore said,

"Lori?"

She turned back around to face him and he asked,

"Where did you get that cloak? I have never seen its equal."

"I acquired it from my father."

"And who is your father?"

"He is someone very powerful."

Dumbledore could see that he would get no further with her that evening so he waved her off and she made her way back to the Forbidden Forest. He tried to watch her as she left but her cloak made her impossible to see after a while. Dumbledore went back to his room pondering the strange story he had just heard; four individuals with the power to control celestial elemental Dragons? Here in Hogwarts? Out of all the stories that he had ever heard in his 150 years, that had to be one of the most fantastic and absurd. He went back to sleep putting the strange woman out of his head.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning dawned with a buzz of excitement leaving the foreboding feeling in the air down to little more than a mere nagging feeling that something was out of place. Halloween had finally arrived and everyone in the castle was looking forward to the end of the day when a long-awaited event would finally take place. Earlier in the year, at the beginning of the term, it had been announced that Hogwarts would be the host school to Durmstrang Academy in Bulgaria and Beaubaxton's Academy in France . These were the other two largest Wizarding academies in Europe and they, as well as Hogwarts, were to take place in a contest that had not been held in the last 200 years: the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It could not have happened at a better time either. Before school started, something had happened at the Quidditch world cup that everyone in the wizarding world's nerves on edge. Someone had conjured the Dark Mark above the stadium in the middle of the night after the match leaving the Ministry of Magic in a tizzy and several Muggle-born witches and wizards fearing for their lives. Yes, the upcoming tournament was indeed a welcome event to look forward to after the previous unwanted 'excitement.'

Around the middle of the day, three best friends who were in their fourth year at Hogwarts were making their way to the entrance of the Great Hall talking about how much they hoped a Gryffindor would be able to represent their school. Soon they paused to gaze at the impartial judge that would determine the champions who would represent their respective school: the Goblet of Fire. It would have looked like any other normal wooden cup except for the fact that it was brimming with white-blue flames. The Goblet would decide in a couple of hours who was worthy to compete in the time-honored tradition of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. To be considered was quite simple. All a student need do was put their name and what school they were from on a piece of parchment and toss it into the fire. Many had been doing just that all day and only a few stragglers remained.

As the trio looked at the extraordinary relic, the slender, dark-haired boy with glasses and a thin lightning-shaped scar on his forehead turned to his other two companions and said,

"I sure hope that Hogwarts gets a good representative."

The other boy, a tall kid with tomato-red hair and bright blue eyes replied,

"Yeah; God help us if someone from Slytherin gets picked."

The girl of the group, a bright young lady with a mass of bushy brown hair and intelligent dark brown eyes retorted,

"Well, even if a Slytherin does get picked, at least Hogwarts will still have a chance of winning. The Goblet doesn't choose lightly you know."

"Oh come off it, Hermione!" argued the red-head, "You know better than anyone if Slytherin gets it, Hogwarts has as good as lost the Tournament!"

Hermione flipped her bushy brown hair at him and set off at a brisk pace down the back hall. The red-head turned to the other boy and muttered,

"I'll say it once and I'll say it again, Harry. That girl is mental."

"Yeah, but she's the only one keeping us from failing Potions. Speaking of which, we had better go. We don't want to be late or Snape will kill us."

The two boys took off in the direction that Hermione had gone just to make it on time for Double-Potions with the Slytherins and their least favorite teacher in the whole school: Professor Severus Snape. That man had an icy stare that could chill you to the very bone if you weren't a favorite of his, and only a select few had that honor. In addition to being cold and impersonal, he held his classes in the one place that mirrored his personality perfectly; the dungeons. This part of the castle was reportedly the second-most uncomfortable place to hold classes preceded only by the Divination Tower where Professor Trelawney held her classes. The dungeon was cold, dank, often smelled of chemicals, and (according to Snape) was the perfect environment for brewing all manner of magical concoctions. No sooner had the students sat down when Snape set his sights on them.

His dark eyes passed over the class causing a few of the less than stalwart students to cringe a little, and from his robes he produced a half-full vial of a viscous venom-green liquid. He held it up so that everyone could see it and began to rock it back and forth, and every time he did the contents of the vial rolled lazily from one side to the other and it looked quite disgusting. Finally his eyes lit on someone and he said in an icy tone,

"Pop quiz. Mr. Ronald Weasley"

The red-head in the class popped his head up and asked,

"Yes sir?"

"Can you tell me what the contents of this vial are?"

Ron stared at the disgusting-looking semi-solid liquid for a moment before replying,

"Well, um, it looks like a poison of some kind."

"Can you tell me what kind of poison?"

"Uh…."

"I thought not. For your information, Mr. Weasley, this is _Vicivious Serratus_ also known as the Bane of Socrates. It is an infusion of Hemlock, Foxglove, Poison Sumac and the slime of a Poison Dart Frog. It is one of the deadliest poisons ever created and if so much as a drop were to spill onto your skin it would burn one of your limbs off, and if you were to ingest this your organs would liquefy and spill out through every orifice of your body. Shall we test it on one of your fingers just to demonstrate to the rest of the class how potent this poison is?"

Ron shrank back into his seat and stammered,

"N…no sir."

"I didn't think so, coward. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Ron was about to stand up in his seat and shout, 'For what?' but he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked beside him and saw Hermione gently shaking her head. He tried to calm down, but the sting of injustice cut so deeply in his mind that he had trouble brewing the day's potion. It was a Forget-Me-Not Elixir which was supposed to improve one's memory. It was supposed to be a shade of bright violet-blue, but Ron's wound up turning a shade of putrid brown and bubbled all over his desk causing an irreversible stain. The only thing that made him feel slightly better was the fact that Crabbe's potion had turned black and was sticking to the sides of his cauldron. In fact, only Hermione's potion had achieved perfection, but there was nothing unusual about that. Hermione's potions always turned out better than everyone else's. At the end of class which, thankfully, ended a half-an-hour early that day due to the choosing of the champions for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, everyone put a vial of their potion on Snape's desk and got out of there as fast as they could. As the three friends made their way upstairs to warmer areas of the castle, Harry turned to Ron and asked,

"You alright, mate? You seem upset."

Ron rounded on Harry and retorted,

"Upset? Why would I be upset? I've only been humiliated in Potion's class, lost points for Gryffindor, and looked like a fool! I'm not upset at all!"

Harry tried to cheer him up,

"How 'bout I buy the first round of butterbeer at Hogsmeade next weekend?"

Before Ron could reply, he heard giggling behind him. He whipped around and shouted at Hermione,

"I don't want to hear it out of you! You always get your potions right, and there's no need to rub it in my face!"

Hermione stared back at him looking wounded. She replied,

"For your information, Ronald, I wasn't laughing at your incompetence in class today!"

It was Ron's turn to look wounded. He stared at her until Hermione lowered her head and said,

"I'm sorry; that was mean."

Ron sighed and said,

"Let's just go to the choosing. I want to forget all about today."

The other two hastily agreed and made their way into the Great Hall. The students from the other two schools as well as the students from Hogwarts had all managed to find a seat in the large room and were eagerly waiting to see whom the Goblet of Fire would choose. The Goblet had been placed at the top of the room next to the staff table, and just as Harry, Ron and Hermione managed to cram themselves into a seat at the Gryffindor Table Dumbledore stood up and went to the side of the Goblet. He said to the congregation,

"First I would like to thank Mr. Ludo Bagman and Mr. Bartemius Crouch for making this event possible for us. This time-honored tradition would not have been possible without their help. Second of al, I would like to ask that if your name is chosen as your school's champion please make your way up to the front and step into the room behind me. I give you fair warning once again, my honored guests: if you are chosen then you have to compete. There is no going back. Now then, I believe that the Goblet needs only a few more moments to decide. "

Dumbledore waved his wand over the room and extinguished the candles, except for the ones in the Jack-o-Lanterns. The room plummeted into a state of semi-darkness; however, a few candles almost promptly relit eliciting a laugh from the students. Dumbledore repeated the action and this time the candles remained out. Everyone's eyes turned to the Goblet and they missed the almost invisible look of worry pass over Dumbledore's face. After a moment, the blue-white flames sparked red and a singed piece of parchment flew forward. Dumbledore caught it and announced,

"For Durmstrang Academy, I give you Mr. Victor Krum!"

The whole student body rose to their feet and erupted into wild applause for the young man. He was the Seeker of the Bulgarian Quidditch team and the youngest one in the team's history. He was very popular amongst the students, and now he was representing his school as a Tri-Wizard Champion! With a slight swagger, he walked up the isle towards the staff table and the students applauded and cheered his name the whole time. Even after he had disappeared into the door behind the staff room, the student body continued with their wild reverie. Dumbledore had quiet them down so they could continue. As soon as everyone was quiet again, the Goblet's flames turned red again and another piece of parchment flew out and Dumbledore caught it seamlessly out of the air. He read the name and announced,

"For Beaubaxton's Academy, I give you Miss Fleur Delacore!"

The students applauded again and many of the boys drooled as the pretty blond girl made her way up the isle and into the side room. The time had finally arrived. Who would represent Hogwarts? The flames sparked red once more and Dumbledore read off the parchment,

"For Hogwarts Academy, I give you Mr. Cedric Diggory!"

Cedric received another standing ovation from his fellow students as he ascended the steps of the staff table and walked into the side room. That is, from everyone except the Gryffindors. Cedric's House (Hufflepuff) had soundly defeated them in the Quidditch House Cup the year before and they were still feeling the sting. None, however, scowled more deeply than Ron Weasley. Gryffindor lost to Hufflepuff again? How humiliating. Nobody noticed Ron's demeanor, though, as they were still applauding for a good minute after Cedric had disappeared. However, they eventually sat back down and Dumbledore said to the eager crowd,

"Now then, remember that your champions will need undying loyalty from their fellow students. By cheering your champion on you bring honor and glory to…."

Dumbledore never finished speaking and everyone could see why. The Goblet's flames had turned red once more and another singed piece of parchment sprang forth. Dumbledore automatically caught it and flatly read,

"_Harry Potter_?"

At the Gryffindor table, the small fourth year was trying his best to blend in to the wood of the bench and failing horribly. It was only after a gentle nudge from Hermione that he was able to get off the bench and start walking towards the front. As Harry walked away from him, Ron felt a myriad of emotions but the foremost of them was jealousy. He couldn't take it anymore. He got up from the table, excused himself to Hermione as calmly as he could by telling her that he was suddenly feeling ill (which was partially true) and walked as calmly away as he could. Once he had left the Great Hall his steps became more purposeful and he hastily made his way to Gryffindor Tower. He spoke the password to the Fat Lady and took the stairs two at a time and bolted into his room where he flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

Once again the great Harry Potter had gotten the attention of everyone while he was left sitting in the dust on the outside. Why was it that when anything fun happened, Harry was always the one who got to do it? Harry the Famous, Harry the Boy-Who-Lived; Harry this, Harry that. Harry, Harry, Harry! Just hearing his friend's name in his head made Ron want to scream with rage; but he didn't. He lay there calmly with a blank expression on his face. A little while later he heard a ruckus downstairs in the Common Room and their seemed to be a singular name being shouted amongst the students: Harry Potter. It made Ron almost sick to his stomach, but he kept his cool. Soon he heard trudging footsteps making their way up to the dorm, and when the door opened who was it but Harry Potter himself. He looked rather crowd-beaten and someone had draped a banner with the word _**Gryffindor**_ emblazoned across it. Ron kept his tone even,

"Enjoy the party?"

"I didn't put my name in that Goblet, Ron."

"Mm-hmm."

"I'm serious! This is a huge mistake!"

"A mistake that once again, the Great Harry Potter seems to have done to attract everyone's attention."

"Hey! I didn't….."

"You know what, just leave me alone!"

Ron yelled as he slapped the bed curtains shut plunging him into darkness. He flopped back down on the bed and stayed that way. He tried to sleep, but it was no use. For hours he tossed and turned and listened to the din downstairs, but it was only after everything had died down, the last ember in the fireplace had burnt out and everyone was in bed that Ron dared peak his head out. He saw Harry, Neville, Dean and Seamus all asleep in their beds so he got up and went to the window. The air tonight was cool instead of the biting cold it had been the previous night and it was a welcome change from the hot enclosed chamber of Ron's bed. The gentle air caressed his face and rapidly cooled his body, but it still did little for his hot temper. As the air buffeted him, he began to get drowsy. He was nearly asleep when a sound from behind him startled him awake. He whipped around and saw the last thing he would ever expect to see in his room that nigh: a woman. She was unlike any other person that he had ever seen in his life! She was draped in a silvery cloak that made her blend into the room's natural darkness and made her outline nearly disappear. She had thrown her hood back revealing dark brown hair the color of tree bark and a pair of lovely dark brown eyes. She wore bracers made of a metal that Ron had never seen before, but it he could say they were close to anything it would be silver. He stared at the woman for a moment before stammering out,

"Um…who, um…..er…..what are…."

The woman lifter her finger to her lips signaling silence. She looked over Ron and the room's other occupants before walking forward and sitting down next to him. Ron was shocked! Not that the advance wasn't welcome, but this was, after all, someone he didn't know. Finally the woman said in a hushed tone,

"We mustn't talk here. There is too great of a risk that we will be overheard. Will you come with me?"

Ron eyed the strange woman before asking,

"Why?"

"There is something I must know."

"What exactly do you need to know?"

"Listen my friend; time is running short. I am looking for a few people, and I believe that you are one of those whom I seek."

"I don't know who you are, lady, but don't you think this is a little unusual?"

"I realized that my prompt appearance in your room is quite disconcerting, but to show you I mean no harm I would like to give you this."

She reached into a hidden pocket and withdrew a small item. She placed it in Ron's hand and he saw that she had given him a glittering knife with a jewel-encrusted handle. Ron looked turned it over so that the back of his hand was facing her then looked up at her, and noticed that she had a strange look on her face.

"What?"

"I must speak with you alone."

She didn't wait for a reply this time. She grabbed his hand and without warning, Ron felt himself caught up in a flurry of color, sound and strange vibrations that he had never seen heard or felt before. The weird thing was…..it was not unpleasant. It fact, it was the most comfortable way he had ever traveled. However, it ended abruptly and Ron found himself tumbling head over heels into a green forest that he didn't recognize. He got to his feet and started stammering,

"Wh….what…where am I? What did you do to me? You kidnapped me!"

"I have not kidnapped you, young man. I fully intend on returning you to you bed. I have a few questions to ask you before I do though."

Ron threw his hands up in the air and shouted,

"THIS DAY JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER AND BET….."

He never finished his sentence because a hand clamped firmly over his mouth silencing him. The woman turned him around to face her and he saw her brown eyes snapping with frustration.

"I do not intend to harm you in any way. However, if you scream like that again, I will ensure that your voice will not be heard for a week."

Ron vigorously nodded his head and she released him. She took half a step backwards and said,

"Now then; I brought you here for a very specific reason."

"Wh…..where did you take me?"

"Someplace that is familiar, but unfamiliar as well."

"Huh?"

"Where we are is irrelevant right now. What matters is that reddish mark on your hand."

Ron looked down and saw that he was still holding the glittering blade that the woman had given him. As he looked at it he thought to himself,

"_You really are a dunderhead, Weasley. You could have used that when she grabbed you._"

"You would do well not to think of attacking me, young man. You would be dead where you stand if you tried. But I repeat: I did not bring you here to harm you. I brought you here to ask you some questions."

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

"Focus on the task at hand, boy! Now my first question to you is…."

"No. Not before you tell me where I am and what your name is."

The woman sighed in frustration and said,

"We are running out of time. However, I suppose that some trust is needed between the two of us. Very well, you may call me Lorien for now."

"Lorien? Why does that name sound familiar?"

"I will tell you later where we are, but I must ask you my questions now."

"Fine; what questions?"

"First of all, how long have you had that mark on your hand?"

"My dragon birthmark? I've had that thing since I was born. It's the one thing I have that none of my brothers have. I guess I've always been a little proud of it."

"As you should be. Ron, there is something else I must know."

"Alright?"

"Have you ever heard of the Four Dragon Kings?"

"Uh…no, can't say that I have. Are they important?"

"Indeed they are. They are four of the most important individuals who ever existed."

Lorien told him the story and when she was done Ron looked at her with his mouth slightly open. He said,

"Wow; that's a great story, but what does it have to do with you bringing me here in the middle of the night?"

"I have a bit of a confession to make. During the choosing of the school's champions, I was spying. I saw you get up and leave when your friend was chosen."

At this, Ron's face grew dark and sullen. He turned his eyes to the ground and said,

"Yeah; Harry Potter the Bloody Boy-Who-Lived. He gets everything he wants."

"You should know, Ron, he had no desire to be chosen for that Tournament. He would have been content watching the others go through dangerous feats with you instead of having to actually perform them."

"Yeah, well, he still gets to do it. I want to be chosen for something too, ya know!"

"Well, perhaps you can be."

Ron looked back up at her and replied in an impatient tone,

"Whaddayamean?"

"It could very well be that you are one of the Four I am looking for."

"Wait, you're telling me that I could be the lost descendant of one of these Kings who got murdered?"

"Yes."

Ron stared at her with his mouth open. Lorien reached over and touched his chin prompting him to close it. She said,

"In truth, I was going to go through every student in the school and if they weren't the one, I would simply place them in a deep sleep and they would wake up thinking it was all a dream. It would be long and tedious, and somebody would most likely catch on. But you were the first one I wanted to try."

"Why me?"

"It was your hair. The King of the Dragon of Fire had bright red hair just like yours."

"Everyone in my family has red hair. What makes me so special?"

"You have that mark on your hand, and that dagger that you hold is no ordinary knife. That blade belonged to one of the Dragon Kings and only someone of that royal bloodline or someone who has permission from a Dragon King can handle it. It goes beyond purity of wizard blood, Ron. I am speaking of royal blood; real and true sovereignty and powers beyond your wildest dreams that only you can wield."

"Hang on a moment; this sounds too good to be true. What's the catch?"

"There is something that must happen when all the true Kings are found. You will all have to overthrow the ones who sit on your thrones now. That is the only way that balance can be restored to the world and the only way that magic as you know it today can continue on. Do you remember when the candles came back on after Professor Dumbledore blew them out?"

"Yeah; we all thought that was funny."

"Trust me when I say there is nothing funny about it. The entire magical world is in great danger and if the rightful Kings are not found this year, then magic will turn on those who try to use it. There are naught but evil days on the horizon if balance is not restored soon."

Ron turned his back and walked to the edge of the clearing. After a few minutes he walked back and said,

"How do I know that this is all true? Can you give me any other proof?"

Lorien thought hard for a moment before replying,

"The only other proof that I can offer is this."

She reached into a little pouch that she had on her hip and pulled four items: A jar that had what looked like ashes coating the bottom of it and an old rusted lid on top of it, an old, dried up looking seed, a vial full of the muddiest, murkiest, most oily liquid that Ron had ever seen, and a bright golden feather. She placed them on the ground on front him and said,

"If you are truly one of the Four Kings, then one of these items will give us the answer."

He looked at them and said,

"So, do I just…..pick them up or something?"

"Yes; touch them all."

Being the brightest thing in front of him, Ron picked up the golden feather. He studied it hard, but nothing seemed to happen. Lorien took it from him and placed it back in her pouch.

"The Air is not yours to rule. Try another one."

Now feeling a little discouraged, Ron picked up the dried-up seed. He turned it over in his hands, rubbed it between his palms and tried to make something happen to it. But he gave it back to Lorien and she put it back in her pouch.

"The Earth is not your domain either."

Ron looked at the other two items in front of him and picked up the vial full of the brown, oily liquid. He tried to pop the top open, but the thing wouldn't budge.

"Try rubbing it between your hands. See if you can purify it."

He tried with all his might, but the liquid remained just as brown and just as oily. Lorien took it from him and put it with the other two.

"Water is someone else's. Try the last one."

Now Ron was feeling really discouraged. Even though he only half-believed this cockamamie story, the prospect of becoming a king was kind of exciting. Now the only thing left in front of him was a jar coated with ash. Great; if nothing happened here, then he knew that his chances of anything exciting happening to him were over. He reached out and picked up the jar. At first nothing happened, and Lorien said,

"Go ahead and open it. See it that helps."

He doubted that he would even be able to get it open. The lid looked like it had rusted shut. However, he placed his hand upon it and twisted. Surprisingly, the lid twisted quite easily and the rust seemed to disappear as he lifted it off. When was off, the lid was a gleaming brass. He stared at it and asked,

"What do I do now?"

"Pour the ashes into your hand."

Too excited to even care at this point, he dumped the contents of the jar into his right hand: the hand that bore the Mark of the Dragon. He stared at them for a moment and they just sat there in his palm looking dull and dingy. Now feeling completely let down, he looked up at Lorien and said,

"I don't think that Fire is mine either. Maybe you should just…."

Ron never finished his sentence. The ashes in his hand burst into bright blue, gold, and green flames! He tried to throw the burning ashes, but found them creeping up his arm. Through his panic he head Lorien cry,

"It's all right! No harm will come to you!"

"It's hot!"

"Be brave, Ron! You can do this!"

The fire quickly began spreading over his body. Within less than a minute, his entire being was engulfed in those brilliant multi-colored flames. Ron began shrieking, believing that he was burning alive, but Lorien called out encouragement the whole time. After a few seconds, the flames went from blue, green and gold to a luminous amethyst: the color of a king. The fire gleamed purple for a few seconds more and then died down. The flames seemed to draw in on themselves until they had nearly disappeared altogether. All that was left of the spectacular fire was a perfect circle burned into the ground and those amethyst flames forming the ring and in middle of that ring stood Ron. He was shielding his head as though he was expecting an attack but he slowly drew them away as the cool of the evening replaced the intense heat.

He looked up and stood up straight and saw Lorien there with him. She was giving him a look that he couldn't read, but she stood up and stepped inside the ring of purple fire. She said,

"You are the Dragon King of Fire. I have finally found you, my lord. We now have a chance of hope and your world now has a better chance of salvation."

"What….what just happened?"

"You claimed your birthright. The ashes you held in your hand were the ashes of the old King who was murdered. We were fortunate to obtain them as they were heavily guarded, but luckily the Dragons have not accepted the Usurpers as their true rulers and the Dragon of Fire brought them to us and even inanimate objects can recognize the touch of someone Great. When you touched the jar and the rusted lid that held those ashes recognized the touch of the old Royal blood so you were able to twist the lid off. In anyone else's hands, those ashes would have remained so: ashes. Only the true king could get them do what they just did."

She knelt down on one knee, took his hand and said,

"My lord and king, it is good to have you back."

"Uh…"

She got back to her feet and said,

You cannot meet your counterpart right now, but you will in due course. In the meantime, I have a mission for you."

"A mission? What kind of mission?"

"Help me find the other three. They should all bear a small Dragon somewhere on their bodies. Use whatever tactics you can to find them, Ron. This is too important to let fall by the wayside."

"Um; okay I guess."

"Oh, and you should feel your abilities begin to awaken soon as well."

"Abilities?"

"The Four Dragon Kings were not named as such just because they had dominion over their counterparts. They mirrored their Dragon's abilities."

"So…I can control fire?"

"To a degree. Your counterpart is the one who has true lordship over the Fire Element, but you mirror that power. You cannot completely control it, but you can bend it to your will."

"Does that mean I can breathe fire?"

"If you so choose. Don't try to now because it will be useless and you will just look the fool. Give it a few days; you have only just come in to your power."

"Do I look any different?"

"You do. You have the visage of one of the First Children of Illuvitar."

"Who?"

"You look like an Elf."

"An Elf? I don't wanna look like an Elf! They're some the ugliest things that ever walked the earth!"

"Not that kind of Elf. One of the Old Elves; these were the fairest creatures to walk the earth before the Age of Men. They have all gone to Valinor now."

"What's a Valinor?"

"Nevermind; I can do little about your changed appearance, but what I can do is give you this."

She handed him a vial of something.

"That will keep you looking like old self for a couple of months. However, please heed me. Do not give up on your search. I will be looking as well, but if you believe you have found someone, just call my name and I'll come. I must say goodbye to you for now, Ron. When we meet again, I will have a suitable name for you and hopefully we will have another King within our ranks. We are growing stronger. We're not there yet, but the tide is turning in our favor. Good luck, Ron. I wish you success in your quest."

"Um….I guess I wish you would be successful too."

Lorien smiled and kissed both his cheeks. She waved at him and Ron felt himself surrounded by those colors and lights again and he felt himself moving backwards. After a moment he awoke, and found himself still at the window and the sun was rising.


	3. Chapter 3

Ron peeled himself away from the windowsill and as he sat up a sharp, fiery pain in his back that shot all the way down his spine. He groaned and said,

"Ouch. No more sleeping on the windowsill."

He grabbed his things and headed down to his first class without even bothering to take a shower. As he sat there trying to listen to Professor Flitwick talk about how the Illusionment Charm could make you blend into your surroundings, his mind wandered back to the strange occurrence last night. It was most decidedly the strangest dream he had ever experienced, and it seemed so real. And what was that whole business about him being a King?

"Take out your wands and begin."

"Huh?"

"We are about to perform the charm, Mr. Weasley. Please take out your wand and begin."

Ron scowled inwardly but did as he was asked. He took his wand in hand and said half-heartedly,

"_Illusious_."

He was able to make his guinea pig turn a bright shade of blue, but that was it. Hermione was able to do it on the first try, and it only served to irritate Ron further. He pointed his wand at his now blue guinea pig and shouted with all his might,

"_ILLUSIOUS_!"

Then, to his utter chagrin, his wand flew out of his hand and right towards his face. The tip of it landed right between his eyes and hit him with enough force to knock him backwards onto his back. For a good few moments, Ron saw nothing but stars and when his vision cleared he saw the whole class standing over him muttering,

"Is he going to be alright?"

"That looks nasty."

"Should we call Madam Pomfrey?"

Then Professor Flitwick squeaked,

"Everyone out of the way! Out of the way! Give him some air!"

Then Ron was staring into the little round face of the short Professor. He was very gentle and he examined his face and after a few moments said,

"Let's get you to the Hospital Wing. That needs attention."

The students helped Ron up and Professor Flitwick conjured a large handkerchief out of thin air and put it over Ron's head.

"Do I look that bad that I need to have my face covered?"

He couldn't help but hear that someone retched as he finished speaking.

"It's best no one sees you like this," replied Flitwick.

Ron felt a shiver of fear go through his body as Flitwick led him towards the Hospital Wing. It only took a few moments to get there, and Ron couldn't help but try to lift a hand to his face to see what was wrong. But Professor Flitwick grabbed it and said,

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Ron's tingle of fear turned into utter panic. What was wrong with his face?"

Ron heard the door open and Professor Flitwick call for Madame Pomfrey. She came running out in a hurry and asked,

"What happened?"

"I'd rather not say; just lift the cloth and you'll see."

She took the cloth off his face, and her usual harried expression turned into a look of surprise and mild annoyance,

"Professor, I never guessed you for the joking type, especially whenever a medical emergency is involved."

Ron looked from Madame Pomfrey to Professor Flitwick and back several times before asking,

"What happened? Why are you both staring at me like that?"

The two adults glanced at each other and Professor Flitwick replied,

"You're entire face was rearranged. You're ears were where your eyes should have been, you're nose was on your forehead, and your mouth was where your nose usually goes."

"But…..Everything is back where it should be now?"

"It is. I've never seen anything like it; most remarkable!"

"Remarkable or not, I have sick students to attend to. Come to me when you are really injured Mr. Weasley. Then I will be more than happy to take care of you."

Ron gave a confused nod and walked as calmly as he could out of the Hospital Wing, but as soon as he was out the door he broke into a run and made his way to the nearest bathroom. He busted through the door and made a beeline to the first mirror he saw, and scrutinized his face. He inspected everything three times over, but nothing seemed to be out of place. He could breathe, he could see, and he could hear just fine and every appendage appeared to be in the right place. Only one thing caught his attention though. Were his ears always that long? He didn't remember them being quite that length or seeing the ends of them going back quite as far as they were now. Oh well, it was just a minor thing and nothing to get overly upset over. He gave a sigh of relief and walked out of the bathroom and down to the dungeons for Potion's class.

When he walked in, everyone gave a little gasp and he heard mutterings of,

"I thought he would be in the Hospital Wing."

"Maybe he already was."

Ron did his best to ignore the mutterings and sat down next to Hermione. Luckily, the day's potion didn't seem too hard today. He was easily able to brew it with very little trouble and got a look of admiration from Hermione. However, as he left Harry caught up with him and asked,

"You alright? I thought…."

Ron was still feeling peeved about the whole Tournament and didn't really want to talk to Harry at the moment, so he curtly said,

"I'm fine," turned his back and walked away leaving Harry fuming behind him.

He gave a little self-satisfied smirk that Harry had finally not gotten any attention promptly followed by a pang of guilt. Perhaps that woman from his dream had been right. Maybe somebody was trying to kill Harry, and as angry as he was at him right now, he certainly didn't want to see him die. Harry was, after all, his best mate so perhaps he could find a way to make up his snide comment without talking to him. He was beginning to feel repentant, but not so much that he wanted to talk to Harry for a while longer. His opportunity came a few weeks later a couple of days before the first Task when he received an owl at breakfast from his brother, Charlie. It read

"_Ron,_

_This is top secret. Please inform Hagrid to come to the forest clearing tonight for instructions on the first task. Thanks._

_Charlie_"

Ron shrugged and trudged down to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest at the end of the day. He wanted to be alone for a while, so he decided to go by himself and when he arrived he got a look of surprise from the half-giant.

"Ron! What're yer doin' down here? Where are Harry an' Hermione?"

"I didn't tell them I was coming, but I have a message for you. My brother Charlie owled me and asked me to give this to you."

He handed over the note and after he read it Hagrid asked,

"Well seein' as how it's your brother an' everything, why don't you come with me and see what this is all about?"

Ron smiled and said,

"I'd like that a lot. Thanks."

"Now, mind you, yer'd better keep out of sight seein' as how it involves th' Tournament an' all."

Ron nodded and they walked together down into the forest. As he walked along, Ron noticed that something about the forest seemed rather…..threatening. He looked up at the trees and heard their creaking and groaning in a way that he never had before. Something was wrong here. Very wrong. But another noise brought him from his thoughts. A crashing, roaring and hissing noise that he recognized only too well. Dragons; there were dragons in the forest. Because of his brother's work with them, Ron was somewhat familiar with these animals and their behavior but when he got a good look at them, he couldn't help but be impressed.

Four monstrous fire-breathing lizards had been placed into giant reinforced crates and were now quite pissed off at having woken up in an unusual environment with pitiful humans surrounding them trying to hold them down. Hagrid went ahead and Ron stayed back in the tree line and watched the dragons. One was a bright red, another a pearly blue, another a vibrant green and the last was a nasty black and bronze creature more lizard-like than the others with a spiked tail. He examined the powerful creatures for a good while longer until his eyes began to swim. He mind was going completely blank and the only thing that filled his thoughts were the four dragons in front of him. He went into such a trance-like state that he only barely heard one of the handlers shout,

"Watch out! She's aiming for the trees!"

And Ron snapped out of his trance. A giant column of fire was coming his way, and in a split-second Ron knew that he was going to die. He closed his eyes, held up his hands in defense and shouted,

"NO!" and the pillar of fire that came his way did the most unusual and unexpected thing.

It turned away from him and back into the clearing towards the creature that had blasted it at him. When that happened, everything seemed to go quiet. The dragons stopped roaring, the handlers stopped shouting and the giant columns of fire stopped illuminating the clearing. Ron stood stock still for a moment before running back towards the castle. He ran through the forest and didn't stop until the turrets of the castle were in sight. He snuck through the door and managed to sneak past every living thing in the hallways and finally made his way into the Gryffindor Common Room.

He went up to his room, kicked off his shoes and collapsed on his bed. He was well aware that he was covered in leaves and other foliage from the forest but he didn't care. All he wanted to do at this point was sleep. He didn't even care if he got a bath or not. And his wish came true. He immediately fell asleep, but his dreams were less than peaceful. He kept dreaming about that strange woman and she was fighting something. She was alone and quickly becoming tired. She turned to him and yelled,

"Help me, Ron! Help me find the others! I can't do this alone!"

And he was immediately reminded of his own task that he was supposed to be performing: the people with the Dragon Marks. He was supposed to be helping find them. He shouted,

"I'm sorry! What can I do?"

"Help me find the other three! The world of magic is dying!"

And she turned back to her battle, and Ron woke with a start. He was breathing heavily and covered in a cold sweat even though the room was nice and warm. He heard a noise downstairs and was immediately on his guard. He got out his wand and made his way cautiously down the steps. As he descended, he heard two voices and one of them belonged to Harry. As soon as the whole Common Room had filled his vision, he saw Harry standing in front of the fireplace looking very guilty. Now upset at having being woken Ron scowled and asked,

"Who were you talking to?"

"No one. Just go back to bed."

Ron gave him a funny look and walked back upstairs. But before he crawled into bed, he felt that he was feeling rather dirty so he went to the shower and let the warm water relax his body. When he was done he went back to bed and his dreams were peaceful the rest of the night. The next day at Care of Magical Creatures class, Ron couldn't help but notice that Hagrid had picked Harry for the first go-round with the Blast-Ended Skrewts that they were taking care of and whisper something to him. Ron didn't really think much of it at first, but about halfway through the class he realized that Hagrid had most likely been trying to tell him about the dragons. The first thought that went through Ron's mind was,

"_Good. He won't get hurt. He can…..I'm still mad at him. But why am I mad at him? He said he didn't put his name in the Goblet and so did Lori. Lori! Crap_!"

He smacked himself on the head and started asking himself how he was going to find three people with a Dragon Mark somewhere on their bodies. He certainly couldn't do it now. There were too many people looking at him and if he just started asking random questions no one would ever want to talk to him again. After the class was over he decided that the first person he would ask would be Hermione, but it would have to wait to the end of the day.

At the end of Care of Magical Creatures, the Gryffindors made their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts with one of their favorite teachers to date: Professor Mad-Eye Moody. However, the class was dampened a little bit by the fact that they had to take the class with the doggone Slytherins. Today they were trying to learn how to put out fire with a burst of water from their wands and as soon as Ron saw the little candle on front of him, he was immediately reminded of the night before where that pillar of flame had suddenly turned away from him. Had he done that? Lori had said that he was able to control fire now and how could he forget the searing pain of those flames that had enveloped his body in that weird dream? He put down his wand and looked at the fire. He gave it all his attention and thought,

"_Get bigger_," and to his surprise, the tiny point of flame seemed to grow a little bit.

"Mr. Weasley?"

"Huh?"

"You are supposed to be putting out your candle, not staring at it like it's a glass of pumpkin juice. Pick up your wand and do the spell."

"Yes sir."

Ron picked up his wand in a hurry and said,

"_Aguamente_," but again his magic went awry.

Instead of a jet of water shooting from his wand, a jet of blue light shot from it and hit Draco Malfoy in the chest. Everyone went quiet as Draco's clothes suddenly seemed to fly off his body until he was standing there in nothing but his underwear. Then the room went from silence to a roar of laughter and very decided pointing at the source of the amusement. Not just little titters and giggles when someone is trying to suppress something they find extremely funny, or when they are trying to be polite; the entire class was doubled over, red in the face, tears streaming down their cheeks roaring in laughter. Even Professor Moody was trying not to snigger. Draco went red in the face and stammered,

"You….I'm…My father is going to hear about this, Weasley! You did that on purpose!"

Ron smirked and retorted,

"Right, like anyone wants to look at that."

Draco's face was now threatening to turn black and before anyone could stop him, he made his way across the room and hit Ron in the face. Ron went down hard and landed just in front of Draco's feet. He was about to get back up to fight the enraged Slytherin but something stopped him. There, on Draco's bare foot was a brownish mark he could have sworn was shaped like a Dragon. He only got a brief glimpse of it before the foot went back and then forward again to collide with Ron's midsection. Ron doubled over as the wind was knocked out of him. He looked up at Draco, locked eyes with the enraged boy and gasped out,

"_You can't be one of us, you beast of Morgoth_! _You will never be a King_!"

Draco's foot stopped in midair as Professor Moody reached them and stopped him from waling on Ron any further.

"That's enough Mr. Malfoy! It was an accident!"

Draco regained his composure and hissed,

"You can talk in made-up languages all you want, but I will make sure that this is the last time you ever see the inside of this school!"

He picked up his clothes and left the room as fast as he could. Moody surveyed the class and said,

"I think that's enough today. I want all of you to practice that spell and we will have a demonstration next class."

The students left the classroom (many of the were still laughing) and Ron heard one of the girls mutter,

"Did you see how muscled he was?"

Ron rolled his eyes and thought,

"_That mark. It couldn't be. And what did he mean by me talking in a weird language? I was speaking English. Right_?"

But he couldn't think about that at the moment. He had a job to do. He found a little niche in the wall big enough for him to fit into and dark enough so that no one would see him.

"Lori?" he whispered, "I think I found another one."

And he was enveloped in that flurry of lights and sounds again and he felt himself moving forward. When it all stopped he was standing in the middle of that strange clearing again and she was standing there in front of him. She had a look of excitement and anticipation on her face as she asked,

"Did you say you believe you found another?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

Ron grimaced and spat the name out,

"Draco Malfoy."

Her expression soured a little as she inquired,

"That blonde boy who always goes about with a bit of a sneer on his face?"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh dear. Well, even confused spirits can come to the side of the light. I will deal with him later. You go enjoy the Tournament in the morning. I'm sure your friend will be happy to see you cheering for him."

Ron nodded and was swept away again and found himself standing in the niche of the wall. It was a short meeting, and one that he hoped never to have again. He really didn't want to see Draco become a King. That kid was already snooty enough. He pried himself out of the wall and went to the Common Room. He tried to do his homework, but found that he was having trouble concentrating. After three hours of trying to get it done, he found that he was simply unable to do it and even though he knew that Hermione was going to chastise him later for it, he put down his books and stared at the fire. He was still quite curious as to how that fire the dragon had breathed at him was deflected. Not only that, there was that whole business with the candle in class earlier. He stared at the fire until he felt his mind go blank again and he thought,

"_Get bigger_."

The fire gave an almost imperceptible leap, but Ron saw it. It gave him a little confidence so he tried again,

"_Get bigger_."

The fire leaped again even higher. Now Ron's concentration was solely on the fire. He didn't even hear the footsteps behind him as he thought again,

"_Get bigger_."

This time the fire gave a big leap and Ron heard a female voice cry,

"How are you doing that without using a wand?"

Ron gave a little shout in surprise and turned around and came face to face with Hermione. She was looking at him like he was the most unnatural creature in the world and she demanded again,

"How are you doing that without using a wand?"

"Would you calm down, Hermione! I can't think with you yelling at me!"

"Ron; you were making the fire grow! How!"

"I…I really don't know. I just asked it to get bigger and it did."

"You willed it to get bigger and it obeyed you?"

"Yeah; it's weird, I know."

She grabbed his hand, yanked him out of his chair, and said,

"I'm taking you to McGonagall. She has to see this."

Ron pulled his arm out of her hand and shouted,

"I'm fine Hermione! I don't need to go see a teacher and have them look at me like a freak again!"

"But Ron; you were…."

"Controlling the fire, I know! I want to go to bed now, so if you'll excuse me."

He turned on his heels and rubbed his shoulder from where Hermione had yanked it.

"That girl is strong as a tree. Where does she get off?"

He went to bed feeling rather sullen that night and woke up the next morning not feeling a whole lot better. The First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament was today, and Ron was looking forward to it about as much as a visit to the Dentist.


	4. Chapter 4

At long last, it has arrived! Chapter 4! I do apologize for the long delay. I will try update far more frequently. In the meantime, I would like lots and lots of reviews. Give me some constructive criticism or just tell me you like it or hate it. Either way, please give me some feedback. Thank you for your patience with me, and please stay tuned in.

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><p>Ron pulled himself out of bed, and looked at the window. The sun wasn't even up yet and he could see a few stars left in the slowly brightening sky. He went to uncover himself, but something made him promptly pull the warm blankets back over his body. He was suddenly cold. He looked over at the fireplace in the middle of the room, and it was still going. By all means, the dorm should not be this chilly. But it didn't seem to be a chill from the late autumn air or from dying embers of a nearby fire, it was….different some how. He tried to will away the chill that was slowly enveloping him, but the more he tried the worse it seemed to get. His breath began to hang in the air and the fine hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood up. He grabbed his wand from the bedside and whispered to the frigid room,<p>

"Is there someone there?"

"Onnnneee who hasssss waited long to sssssspeak with yoooou," a disembodied voice hissed.

Ron paled a little at the sound of the utter blackness in the voice. It was unlike anything he had ever heard.

"Who are you?" he challenged.

"I am known by many namessssss. But you can call me 'your Majessssty'."

Ron bristled. Very rarely did he feel anger deep enough to want to maim and kill, but there was a power to this voice that made it almost impossible not to want to. The longer the voice spoke, the angrier Ron got and he began to feel some of his strength begin to ebb away. But deep within his core, he felt a fiery spark of will-power return and he commanded with as much conviction as he could,

"Leave me alone, and go away."

"Asssss the little King wisssshessss. We'll meet again."

The voice left, and the room suddenly seemed much warmer and brighter than before. The sun rose higher and its rays peeked into the room. The ominous chill didn't completely dissipate, though. Ron could still feel a faint, but distinct, unsettlement about the morning air. However, nobody but him seemed to realize it. Ron looked around the room and saw his bunkmates beginning to stir. The first one up was Neville. He rubbed his eyes and said,

"Mornin' Ron. Sleep well?"

"Uh…yeah. Alright, I guess."

Neville rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and smiled. He jumped out of bed and ran to his trunk. He pulled out his warmest set of robes and threw them on.

"See you at breakfast, Ron! I'm gonna go make sure I eat fast enough so I can get a good seat to watch the Tournament!"

Neville didn't wait for a reply, but took off down the steps and disappeared. After he was gone, Ron gathered his knees up to his chest and held them for a moment. He tried to forget about that disturbing voice and how it made him feel, but it was doing little good. The longer he sat there, the worse it got, so he did the only other logical thing: he got out of bed and started to get dressed. When he was done, he glanced over at Harry's bed and saw that it was empty.

As much as he didn't want it to, worry began to work its poisonous tentacles through his brain. What if Harry really got hurt today? Dragons were not creatures to be taken lightly, and Harry had virtually no experience with them. At the thought of the dragons a fond memory worked its way Ron's mind back to their first year when he, Hermione and Harry had helped take care of Hagrid's baby Norwegian Ridgeback whom Hagrid had dubbed "Norbert." The baby had only been there a couple of weeks until he proved too much to handle and was getting too big to be hidden anymore. Hagrid had parted with the young dragon, but it had not been easy for him. Then his mind returned to the night when he had hidden himself in the trees and had somehow made the plume of flame the dragon breathed turn away from him. It was an experience that he still hadn't quite processed yet, but it didn't weigh too heavily on his mind.

As Ron pulled his robes over his head, he turned absentmindedly towards the stairs and walked down them. At the bottom of them he saw his worst nightmare come true: Hermione was there waiting for him. He had nearly forgotten about what had happened the previous night when she had caught him controlling the fire in the fireplace without the aid of a wand. As he looked at her, he saw that getting past her was unavoidable. Great; first that creepy voice that only he could here, now a smaller version of his mother was standing there waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. Ron looked up and tried to walk faster, but she easily matched his pace. He never knew how she was able to do that considering he was nearly one and a half times her height. She followed him and whispered,

"We have to talk about last night."

"I don't want to talk about it," he replied in a hushed tone.

"Ron, if there is something going on, you can trust me. I'm your friend. I would never do anything to betray you."

He stopped walking for a moment and looked at her. He saw in her eyes concern, worry and irritation: the same look she always got when either Ron or Harry was holding something out on her. Ron sighed and said,

"Look, Hermione, it's a really big secret and I'm not supposed to say anything. If I did, I could get in big trouble okay? Please just trust me. Nothing is wrong."

"You were controlling that fire; how?"

"Shhhh! I don't want the whole school to know!" he whispered harshly, "It's bad enough that Harry is still mad at me, and I don't need to be badgered about this too! Please leave me alone right now, and I'll see you at the Tournament, okay?"

A look of mild hurt passed through her eyes, but she had no choice but to concede. She followed him down to the Great Hall, but sat down next to Harry while Ron went off to another part of the Gryffindor table. He picked at his breakfast a little, but food was just not very appetizing to him right now. An itch began to spread across his chest. He absentmindedly scratched at it, but as he did he felt something under his shirt. He pulled the object out and stared at it. It was the vial that Lori had given him. She had given this to him to disguise his features, he remembered. But come to think of it, he hadn't really even looked to see how his features had changed. She had said that he looked like one of the ancient elves. He had no idea what they looked like, but she had said they were quite fair to look upon. Then his thoughts returned to yesterday when he had accidentally disrobed Malfoy in front of the whole class and everybody had laughed.

That Mark on his foot. It couldn't have been one of the ones he was looking for, right? He didn't know; he hadn't gotten a very good look. But at the time it had happened, he could have sworn there was a Dragon Mark on that foot. What was he going to do? He was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn't even notice when the morning mail arrived and his family's elderly owl, Errol, delivered a whole bunch of letters. Poor Errol slumped out of the air and landed clumsily right in front of Ron, bringing the boy out of his thoughts and scaring him to half to death. Ron gasped in alarm and when he did, every candle that was lit and the fireplace at the side of the Hall blinked out. It was as though they had never been lit at all!

The students who were eating breakfast groaned aloud at the sudden loss of light and heat and one particularly perturbed Ravenclaw exclaimed aloud,

"Oh bloody hell! What next!"

Ron tried to make it as inconspicuous as possible, but he stole a glance over at Hermione. Sure enough, she was glaring at him and her eyes clearly said,

"_I know you did it_,_ and I'm going to find out how."_

Ron quickly turned back to his plate and decided he had had enough to eat. He gathered up his letters and put them in his pocket, then Errol and took him to the Owlery where he placed him on a low perch. Errol was quite grateful for the assistance. He put his head under his wing and promptly fell into a deep sleep. Ron left him to rest and began making his way down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the first task of the Tournament, but he wasn't even really all the interested in it at the moment. He kept mulling over in his mind about what he could have seen on Malfoy's foot the other day. God, he hoped it wasn't one of the Marks.

"Excuse me? Is this seat taken?"

A voice brought him from out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw a girl he was pretty sure he had never seen before. She was wearing a Hufflepuff robe, and Ron wondered what she could have been doing over here on the Gryffindor side. Didn't she have her own Champion to support? But he replied,

"No, you can sit here. My friend, Hermione, will be along shortly, but I don't think she'll mind."

The girl sat down, and said to Ron,

"Hermione…..isn't she one of the smartest students here?"

"I guess she's pretty smart. I mean, as girls come. Uh…I mean, um…I think that all girls are pretty smart, but some of them are just not as smart as others, and Hermione is one of the smarter ones. N…not that you're not smart, I just…"

"Ron?"

"Huh?"

"Stuff a cork in it. I'm not offended."

"Oh."

The girl smiled at him and sat down. After she was seated, Ron turned his attention down to the Quidditch pitch. The entire field had been reassembled just for this occasion. Instead of the usual smooth green grass that normally carpeted the bottom of the field, the terrain was now rocky and mountainous and quite devoid of any greenery at all. As Ron looked around he saw several places that a dragon could hide in very well, and several places where an aerial attack could be quite possible. Then it began.

From the side of the tent where the Champions were waiting, Ludo Bagman emerged wearing his old yellow and black Quidditch robes. He pointed his wand at his throat and said,

"_Sonorous_! WELCOME ONE AND ALL TO THE FIRST TASK OF THE TRI-WIZARD TOURNAMENT!"

His magically enhanced voice boomed over the field, and the waiting crowd cheered wildly.

"I MUST WARN EVERYBODY HERE, THAT THE CHALLENGE YOUR CHAMPIONS WILL FACE TODAY ARE NOTHING SHORT OF DEATH-DEFYING AND WILL TEST THEIR DARING AND COURAGE! FOR THEY MUST EACH FACE…A DRAGON! THE TASK IS SIMPLE: COLLECT THE GOLDEN EGG!"

The crowd cheered wildly again as the object of the first task was finally revealed to them all. But their cheer was cut short as Ludo went on,

"THE CHAMPIONS HAVE BEEN GIVEN THE ORDER IN WHICH THEY WILL PROCEED, AND FIRST UP IS MISS FLEUR DELACORE! LET US GIVE ENCOURAGEMENT TO THE CHAMPION OF BEAUXBATON'S!"

Fleur stepped out of the tent and onto the field. As she strode out, her silvery hair fell like a silken sheet behind her and the cries of approval coming from the stands were suddenly a great deal lower in pitch. Boys from Beauxbaton's, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts were standing on their seats rattling noisemakers and shooting sparks off with their wands. One bright, but misguided, Slytherin even had the pluck to write in bold green letters,

"_**I LOVE YOU, FLEUR**_!"

But Ludo's voice suddenly drowned them all out.

"RELEASE THE DRAGON!"

Time stopped for Ron. He watched as a powerful, Welsh Green strode out onto the field. It had a horn on the end of its snout like a rhinoceros, and had a pair of wings that were making loud clapping noises. Its cat-like eyes locked onto Fleur and narrowed. There was no doubt that if there had been a chance of the element of surprise on Fleur's side, that chance was now gone. The dragon inhaled and shot off a great plume of fire and smoke at the ground directly where Fleur was standing. She quickly dodged the flames, and pulled out her wand.

Ron missed what happened next because Hermione had chosen that moment to sit down on the other side of him. She looked over and saw the Hufflepuff girl and gave a polite nod to her. The Hufflepuff nodded back and turned her attention back down to the field.

As Fleur battled the dragon, Ludo Bagman was narrating what he was witnessing.

"OH! I THOUGHT SHE NEARLY HAD IT THERE!"

Ron turned, but he had missed what she had done. In spite of himself, he jumped to his feet and cried,

"Come on Fleur! Get that egg!"

Hermione pulled him back down and the Hufflepupff girl sat there staring straight ahead hardly blinking. She didn't even seem to acknowledge that Ron had jumped up and acted the fool. Hermione looked over at her and gave her an unusual look, but she too turned her attention back down to the field. Fleur was in the middle of dodging another great plume of flame and when the smoke cleared, everyone was watching with fascination as she held up a speck of gold for all to see. She had it!

The crowd erupted again in wild applause as the Dragon handlers entered the arena and stunned the frustrated creature. It seemed to go on forever, but Ludo got the raucous crowd under control by shouting,

"AND SHE HAS IT! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MISS FLEUR DELACORE HAS HER EGG! NOW IF THE CONTESTANT WILL PLEASE FACE THE JUDGES TABLE TO OBTAIN HER SCORES."

Fleur looked over to the judges table and faced the heads of the schools: Headmaster Dumbledore of Hogwarts, Headmaster Karkaroff of Durmstrang, Headmistress Madame Maxime of Beauxbatons, Bartemius Crouch the Head of the Ministry of Magic and Ludo Bagman. Each of them raised their wands and shot out a number ranging from one to ten. When Fleur had her score, Ludo Bagman stood back up and announced,

"WELL DONE, MISS DELACORE! FEEL FREE TO WATCH THE REMAINDER OF THE TOURNAMENT WITH YOUR CLASSMATES."

Fleur went and sat down amongst her other blue-robed friends and everybody's eyes turned to Ludo again.

"NOW THEN, NEXT IS THE CHAMPION FROM DURMSTRANG! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MR. VICTOR KRUM!"

From the tent, the youngest seeker in the history of the Bulgarian Quidditch team came sauntering out. As usual, he didn't look nearly as impressive on his feet as he did on a broomstick but that didn't stop several female voices from showing their appreciation and admiration at the top of their lungs. Flowers of all kinds were thrown down onto the field as Victor strode out onto it. He gave a nonchalant wave to the crowd and scowled at them as though this was the most boring thing he had ever experienced. Nonetheless, he turned to Ludo and nodded at him signaling that he was ready.

"RELEASE THE DRAGON!"

And with that, out onto the field came a gigantic red and gold Chinese Fireball. It spotted Victor and roared. A mushroom-shaped cloud of fire burst from its mouth and Victor was very nearly singed.

"OOOOO! THAT WAS A CLOSE ONE!" Ludo announced

Ron watched with growing fascination as his Quidditch hero battled the monster. He leapt to his feet again and shouted with all his might,

"Come on, Krum!"

Hermione didn't even bother trying to pull him back down. She just rolled her eyes and continued to watch. Back on the field, Victor got a sudden brainstorm. He pointed his wand at a rock and transfigured it into a dog. He then jumped out of the way and hoped that the dragon would go for it instead of him. Ludo saw it and said,

"WOW! CLEVER MOVE, MR. KRUM!"

It almost seemed to work. The dragon seemed to be more irritated with the fact that there was another creature on her territory. She narrowed her catlike eyes at the Labrador and started stalking it, and Victor took the opportunity to attempt to sneak around to the side and grab the egg. But it failed! The dragon whipped around and saw the two-legged creature getting closer to her. She turned her body around and snapped at him with her mighty jaws. Victor nearly got chomped in half, but a quick duck and fast roll and he had his egg! He ran as fast as a he could away from the fearsome monster that was hot on his tail, and then relief. The handlers stunned the dragon and clamped a ring over its mouth. As the dragon was carted off Ludo announced,

"WELL DONE, VICTOR KRUM! PLEASE SHOW YOUR APPRECIATION FOR THE CHAMPION FROM DURMSTRANG ACADEMY !"

The crowd erupted into such a cacophony that the very poles of the stands rattled! Victor waved at them and faced the judges. They gave him his score and a mixture of cheers and boo's went up through the crowd. Some thought he had scored quite nicely while others (mostly females) thought they judges were quite unfair. Karkaroff was the only one who gave Krum a perfect "10." When he had gotten his scores, he went off to the tent where he had come from. Apparently the dragon had singed him a little because he walked off the field with a bit of a limp. When he had disappeared into the tent Ludo announced,

"WELL DONE, MR. KRUM! AND NOW, NEXT UP IS ONE OF THE TWO CHAMPIONS FROM OUR HOST SCHOOL ! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I GIVE YOU MR. CEDRIC DIGGORY!"

The Hufflepuff boy walked out onto the rocky terrain and looked tentatively around. He was cheered on by his fellow students, and he pulled out his wand. He nodded at Bagman indicating that he was ready and Bagman announced for the third time that day,

"RELEASE THE DRAGON!"

He never saw it coming. From the side, a plume of fire sprang out, and singed Cedric. He was only just barely able to jump out of the way and when he stood up, one whole side of his face was bright red and beginning to blister. A groan of disappointment came up from the audience, and several of them looked away in fright. As Cedric looked up, he saw his opponent staring straight at him in the face. It was a Swedish Shortsnout; it was pearly blue in color but this barely had time to register. It had reared itself up on its hind legs and looked like it was getting ready to breathe another plume of fire at the little intruder. Cedric pulled his wand out and pointed it at the eyes of the beast.

"_Conjunctivitis_!" he shouted.

A jet of pinkish light shot from his wand and hit the dragon in the eyes. The yellow eyes that had been quite menacing a moment ago puffed up and turned a sickly greenish color around the edges. They began leaking a yellowish, viscous fluid and the dragon began scratching at them and roaring! She backed up and the little intruder was forgotten. All she could think of now were her damaged eyes. Unfortunately, the dragon trampled five of her eggs in the process, but it gave Cedric enough time to grab the golden egg and get away from the rampaging, fire-breathing monster.

The handlers rushed out onto the field and stunned the poor beast. Cedric hurried off the field grateful to get away from the dragon. He faced the judges table and got his scores. Unfortunately, he got points taken off for the dragon trampling some of the real eggs, but Cedric didn't really care. He was just glad it was over. Ludo pointed his wand at his throat and magically enhanced it,

"MR. CEDRIC DIGGORY: THE HOGWARTS CHAMPION FROM HUFFLEPUFF HOUSE!"

The crowd erupted into gales of cheering and applause again for him and they didn't cease until they saw him disappear into the medical tent. Then a hush fell over the crowd. They knew who was up next, and there had been mixed feelings on his being in the tournament over the last several weeks. Many felt that Harry had cheated somehow and was nothing but a glory-hound. Others felt sorry for him and gave him pitiful looks wherever he went. But now was not the time to debate such issues. Now was the time to watch and see the great Harry Potter either succeed or fail in this task. Ludo announced,

"NOW WE BRING OUT OUR FINAL CHAMPION! THIS IS TRULY A GREAT YEAR AS NO TRI-WIZARD TOURNAMENT HAS EVER HAD THE PRIVILEDGE OF HOSTING FOUR CHAMIONS! LADIES AND GENTELMEN, MR. HARRY POTTER: THE HOGWARTS CHAMPION FROM GRYFFINDOR HOUSE!"

There was only scattered applause and most of it came from the Gryffindors. Banners were held up proclaiming his name, but there were more sparks of green being sported on people's chests that said, 'Potter Stinks.'

Harry ignored them all, however, and walked out onto the field. He heard Ludo shout,

"RELEASE THE DRAGON!"

And he pulled out his wand. The beast that appeared in front of him was more lizard-like than all the other dragons and was a great deal more evil-looking as well. A deep black color with hints of bronze flickered throughout her hide, and from her tail several spikes were jutting out. Harry's eyes widened at the site of her. Granted he had seen her once before, but that had been at a distance. Now she was up-close, very big and very dangerous: a Hungarian Horntail. He pointed his wand at the sky and shouted,

"_Accio Firebolt_!"

But something went wrong. Instead of the intended summoning charm, a jet of green light shot from the end of his wand and hit the beast in the chest. When it hit the dragon, the jet of light bounced off its scaly hide and headed straight for Harry. He saw it coming for him, and he did the only thing he could do: he ran. The green light exploded into the ground right where Harry had been standing and left a small crater about the size of an ostrich egg.

Dumbledore immediately recognized the curse, and he stood up and shouted to Ludo:

"Stop the Task! Get the handlers on the field!"

The dragon was temporarily distracted by the jet hitting it in the chest, but now that the threat was gone, she turned her attention back to the two-legged intruder. What she saw infuriated her! The little creature was running right for her precious eggs! She ran up to him and kicked the boy away from the egg. Harry rolled over a few times and landed on his back. The dragon pounced on him and held him down with her massive foot, and opened her mouth. Harry lay there curled up in a ball and covered his face with his already singed hands.

Back up in the stands, Ron saw what the dragon was about to do and didn't even think about what his next actions were. He stood up and shouted above the din of the crowd,

"_The grace of Valinor will protect you!"_

And the dragon breathed a pillar of fire directly at Harry. It covered him and his body was no longer seen. All anybody could do was watch in horror as the inferno burned the ground and the rocks. Then, mercifully, the handlers rushed onto the field and pointed their wands at the enraged dragon,

"_Stupefy_!" they cried as one.

The dragon fell over in a slump and the fires ceased. The crowd stood up expecting to see Harry's burned corpse lying there in the final throes of defense, but what they saw instead shocked them all! Harry was curled up in a defensive position, but he wasn't burned at all! In fact, he was quite alright! The crowd gasped and Harry gingerly took his hands away from his face and looked around. Bill Weasley, who was one of the handlers, approached him and gasped.

"Are you alright?"

"I…I think so. What happened?"

"I don't know. By all rights, you should be burned to a crisp! Somebody up there must really like you."

Of course, he said this without realizing that the "someone" was a lot closer than he knew. The handler helped the boy up off the ground and saw that Harry was holding something.

"What do you have?"

Harry showed him and Bill gasped in surprised. Even though Harry had nearly been burned to death, he had still managed to grab hold of his golden egg! Bill said,

"Hold it high so the judges can see it."

Harry nodded and did as he was told. The crowd gasped in surprise and then, slowly, a smattering of applause came up and then increased in volume and intensity until the entire crowd was calling his name and cheering him on. As the cheers and applause came, Harry felt slightly more encouraged. However, when he turned to the judges table, they looked less than encouraged. In fact, they looked downright mystified and Karkaroff looked furious. It was too reminiscent of the night he was chosen as Champion, and suddenly Harry felt his stomach jump into his throat and he wanted nothing more than to run and hide from their prying eyes. He looked from Dumbledore to Ludo Bagman and back, until finally Dumbledore stood up and pointed his wand at his throat.

"_Sonorous!_ BEFORE WE GIVE MR. POTTER HIS SCORE, I BELIEVE IT WOULD BE BEST IF HE RETIRED TO THE TENT FOR A MOMENT SO MADAME POMFREY CAN LOOK HIM OVER! THAT WAS QUITE A FEAT!"

Harry's eyes were suddenly downcast as Charlie led him off towards the tent. This could not be good.


	5. Chapter 5

As promised (far more quickly that I thought I would get it out there) Chapter 5! Please submit some feedback for me. I request, desire and need your reviews! Thank you for your continued support. On with the show!

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><p>As Harry followed Bill into the medical tent, he felt his stomach doing flip-flops. He couldn't even think. All he could do was stand there and stare. A barrage of questions came at him from Fleur, Cedric and Victor, but his tongue felt like it had stuck to the roof of his mouth with a permanent sticking charm. Finally, the ten-flaps opened again, and Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Bagman and Madam Maxime stepped through. But before Dumbledore could say one word, Karkaroff went off on Harry like a bomb.<p>

"How could you do this boy? I vill see you in Azkaban vor using that Curse! Mark me, boy, you vill not…."

"IGOR!" Dumbledore bellowed.

Karkaroff turned his sights from Harry to Dumbledore.

"You saw vith your own eyes, Albus! You saw vat he did!"

"Yes, and I do not believe it was intentional. Bill? Will you please excuse us and if you would kindly take the other Champions with you? I am certain they are most eager to celebrate with their fellow classmates."

Bill nodded and left the tent with the other three in tow. When they were gone, Dumbledore turned back to the others and said,

"Now, if we could all be so kind as to hear Harry's side of the story, I am certain he can shed some light on this. Harry?"

Harry looked at the faces of the judges, and slowly he felt his tongue beginning to come unglued.

"I…I tried to do a Summoning Charm. I was trying to get my Firebolt from the Gryffindor Common Room, and I was going to use that to get the egg. What did I do?"

Karkaroff's brows knit together and you could all but hear the thunderstorm brewing in his mind. But Dumbledore was a little more level-headed. He asked Harry,

"Have you ever seen that spell before?"

Harry put his head in his hands and thought back. He racked his brain trying to remember anyplace he might have seen a jet of green light that might leave a hole in the ground. Then it came to him. In Professor Moody's class when he had shown them the three curses that would earn a witch or wizard a lifetime in Azkaban. He lifted his head and stared at the judges and said two words, but those words had more power and the ability to strike more fear in someone's heart than any snarling, snapping dragon.

"Avada Kedavra?" he asked in a voice that was barely audible, "I did the Killing Curse?"

Slowly, Dumbledore nodded and asked,

"Have you seen it performed before?"

"Um…..once; in Professor Moody's class. He did it on a spider. But I swear! I would never try it myself! I was only trying to get my broomstick! I don't know how it happened!"

He looked around at the teachers and saw a myriad of emotions reflecting in their eyes. Karkaroff looked like he wanted to kill him, Madame Maxime looked as though he were a disgusting bug she wished to stomp on, Bagman's usually smiling face was stricken with shock and Dumbledore….Harry couldn't read Dumbledore's face at all. But he could tell one thing: nobody in that tent (with perhaps the exception of Dumbledore) believed that he hadn't done it on purpose. But there was something else at the forefront of his mind that was even more urgent than the fact that he had unintentionally used an Unforgivable. He said,

"That Horntail should have burned me alive. Why am I not dead?"

The mood in the room shifted from one of anger to utter bewilderment. Karkaroff's brows slackened a little, but the look of hatred never left his face. Madame Maxime turned to Dumbledore and asked,

"Ze boy eez correct, Dumblydore. Why 'eez he not dead? Zat dragon should 'ave burned him to a crisp."

"My dear, Madame Maxime, that is something that I believe the whole school will be buzzing about tomorrow; even more so than the accidental casting of an Unforgivable. In fact, I believe that we can claim "magic gone awry" and blame it on the overly stressed mind of a young wizard. Mr. Bagman? If you would be so kind as to inform the crowd that Harry's spell was nothing more than a Disarming Charm that seems to have turned against its caster. It happened so quickly that no one really had time to see what kind of spell he cast. However, I believe that, to err on the side of safety, we had best examine Mr. Potter's wand again to ensure that it is properly functioning."

Dumbledore looked around and slowly everyone nodded in agreement. Karkaroff, however, had one final thing to say. He turned to Harry, got down to his level, and said in a dangerously calm voice,

"If I ver you, I'd be very careful about vat I said and ver I vent. You vill be under close vatch, boy. Very close vatch. This is twice you have managed to sneak around the rules. Next time, you von't be so lucky," and he turned to go. But then Harry had a sudden thought,

"What about my score?"

Karkaroff turned back around and snapped,

"Vat are you talking about, boy?"

"My score for the first task; you said that I could have it after you made sure I was alright."

The four judges looked at each other and Bagman spoke up, the smile returning to his voice,

"Of course you can have it, lad. You did, after all, claim your egg."

"Ludo!" Karkaroff started, "You aren't serious?"

"The boy completed the task, regardless of what happened. He deserves his score and, need I remind you, he is still an active participant in the Tournament. The laws of the Goblet of Fire state that once a contestant has entered, he or she must perform all the tasks or die trying. Those are the rules, and they can't be broken. So I suggest that we all go out there and judge the boy on his performance."

Karkaroff looked as though he were ready to murder Bagman, but regardless of how he felt about Harry, fair was fair. He stormed out of the tent and Madame Maxime and Bagman followed him, though slightly more dignified. Dumbledore remained behind for a moment to say a few words to Harry.

"Harry? If there is something you feel you need to tell me, anything at all, now would be the time to speak up."

"I swear, Professor, I don't know how it happened. I have no clue why I cast an Unforgivable when I was trying to do a Summoning Charm, and I am really stumped as to how I am still alive. But if someone could figure it out, I would love to hear the explanation."

Dumbledore stared at Harry, his blue eyes twinkling as he studied him. For a moment, Harry could swear Dumbledore could see his innermost thoughts, but then Dumbledore turned away and said,

"Please come out to the field to get your score when you hear your name called."

Harry nodded and watched Dumbledore leave the tent. He plopped his head back into his hands and rubbed his temples as though he were trying to rub the answers right out of his brain. It had all happened so fast: the green light bouncing off the dragon's hide, diving over the egg, the intense heat of the flames that somehow never touched him. Bill was right: somebody up there must really like him…or really want him dead. Then he heard Bagman begin speaking. Harry figured he had magically enhanced his voice again, because the voice was a great deal louder than it had been in the tent a moment ago. It said,

"WELL THAT WAS CERTAINLY EXCITING! I AM PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE THAT MR. POTTER IS UNHARMED FROM THE DRAGON'S FIRE AND THE SPELL YOU SAW WAS NOTHING MORE THAN A DISARMING CHARM GONE AWRY! SO IF YOU WILL PLEASE STEP OUT OF THE TENT, MR. POTTER, WE WILL ALL BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO GIVE YOU YOUR SCORE FOR THE FIRST TASK!"

Harry stepped out and looked around at the faces of his classmates. He couldn't see them very well, but the general air of silence told him that he was not going to be able to live this down for a long time. Nonetheless, excitement quelled his anxiety for a moment as he looked at the judges. First to give his score was Bagman. A jet of silver light shot from his wand and twisted around itself to form a perfect "10."

Harry gasped in surprise, but it wasn't over. Dumbledore was next; he lifted his wand and shot out another silver beam that formed an "8."

Madame Maxime gave him a "7," and Karkaroff only gave him a "4," but Harry didn't much care. All he cared about was that the first task was over and if he ever saw a dragon again, it would be too soon.

Back up in the stands, Ron and Hermione had stood up and were making their way down to the field. When they reached Harry they both gave him shocked looks and Ron, who had gone slightly pale in the face, said,

"That…..that was…brilliant, Harry."

"What took you so long?"

"I'm….."

But before Ron could say another word, Harry held up his hand and said,

"Forget about it."

Ron nodded and Hermione threw her hands up and exclaimed,

"_Boys!"_

"What?" Ron and Harry asked in unison.

Hermione began walking away knowing that she had just witnessed something that she would never understand. But they caught up with her, and Hermione started in on Harry.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"What do you mean, 'what?' That dragon! You should be dead!"

"Oh, I was wondering about that myself. If you could help me find an answer that would be great."

"You mean, you don't _know?_"

"Hermione, if I knew don't you think I would tell you? All I remember is being surrounded by fire and that it was really, really hot, but the flames never touched me."

Then Hermione's jaw clamped shut. She turned to Ron and said,

"What did you do?"

"Huh?"

"Last night you were controlling fire without using a wand, this morning you got scared and all the candles and the fireplace in the Great Hall went out, and now Harry somehow manages to stand before us alive when he should be dead. What is going on with you? And don't tell me 'nothing!'"

"You were controlling fire without using a wand?" Harry exclaimed, "How is that even possible?"

"I, uh, er,….."

"Ron, we need to talk," Hermione said, "Not later; now."

And that was her 'Final Word.' Ron hated the 'Final Word.' It was the one thing he had never quite managed to find a way to get out of. So he used his ace-in-the-hole. He called HER name out loud.

"LORIEN!"

Both Harry and Hermione stopped dead in their tracks and gave him two of the most befuddled looks he had ever seen. Nothing happened. No feeling of flying through trees, no soft landing in a green glade, no strange lady with dark brown hair. Hermione was the first to speak, and when she did her voice betrayed confusion and frustration, and Ron could have almost sworn that his mother had taken Hermione's place and was now standing before him with her hands on her hips and giving him the glare that dared him to lie. He gulped audibly as Hermione spoke,

"Who or what is a Lorien?"

Crap! Now he had stuck his foot in it. He had to tell. There was no way around it.

"Lorien is…."

They just stared at him waiting for him to answer.

"Um….she's….."

"Yes?"

"A….friend."

"A friend?" Harry asked.

"Yeah; a friend that I only just met not too long ago."

"I haven't seen you with any girls, and you didn't mention her before," Hermione observed.

"Well, I didn't want to. Can't I keep a few things to myself?"

Hermione's expression went from one of annoyance to a look that Ron immediately knew he didn't like. And he knew he didn't like it because it was the same look that Fred and George got when they wanted a secret from him that he didn't want to tell.

"Well, now that the cat's out of the bag, don't you think we ought to meet this 'friend' of yours?"

"Um…she's shy."

"Oh. Well when she's feeling braver, why don't you introduce us to her?"

"I'll do that. Hey! How about that First Task? How are you still alive, Harry? I thought that dragon had you for sure!"

"I wish I knew. I dove over the egg and when I looked up that Horntail was standing over me and I knew I was dead. Then, the flames didn't touch me, and I was okay. Oh, and I thought I heard something."

"R…really? What did you hear?"

"I don't know. It sounded like …." He trailed off.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. It was probably just my imagination."

"No! Um, I mean…..you never know. And besides, I'm interested now. What did you think you heard while you were in the fire?"

"Hey! Harry!"

Harry looked around at the sound of the voice, and saw a crowd of students heading his way, and none of them looked happy. His pupils constricted as he saw them coming and he quickly said,

"Meet me later in the Common Room! I'll tell you later!"

And he took off running for all he was worth. Facing that crowd was something that he simply did not have the energy for at the moment. Meanwhile, Ron stood there next to Hermione and she said to him,

"I don't know what mess you have gotten yourself into, but you had best find a way out of it. And when you have a sensible plan, come to me. This nonsense about a 'friend' doesn't fly."

And she turned on her heels and walked away from him. Great; now he was in an even bigger mess! Well, at least he and Harry were friends again. That was something. Ron walked slowly but it was his undoing. The crowd that had been pursuing Harry now turned their sights on the next best thing: Harry's best friend. The first to grab his shoulder were his brothers: Fred and George. They said,

"How did Harry manage to survive that dragon fire? Did he take a potion or something?"

"I don't….."

"Oh! A spell! What spell did he use?"

"I…."

"How about a curse? Did he use a curse?"

Then a barrage of questions came at him from everywhere!

"Did he put something on his skin?"

"Was there some kind of help from a ghost?"

"Don't be stupid, a ghost couldn't do anything!"

"Was there…"

"Shut up, it's my turn!"

"No it's not!"

The questions and rebuttals kept coming and getting louder! Ron was beginning to get a headache, and finally he yelled,

"EXCUSE ME!"

But it did no good. No one was in a listening mood now. All they cared about was speculating how Harry could have possible survived and Ron was in the middle of it. He covered his ears and tried to duck out of the crowd. It worked for a moment; he actually managed to get out of the sea of robes without being noticed, but as soon as someone spotted him walking away they shouted,

"Hey! We're not done with you!"

That did it for him. Ron took off at a sprint, and, for once, was quite grateful that he had longer legs than most of the other students. He bolted right up to the castle door, ran through it, and kept running until he got to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"FORTUNA MAJOR!" he yelled at the Fat Lady.

She gave him a rather offended look, but allowed him passage. The door closed behind him, but he didn't feel safe until he was in his dorm. He found Harry sitting on his bed and Harry saw the look on Ron's face he burst into gales of laughter.

"What is so funny?" Ron asked in a rather offended tone.

"They chased you, didn't they?"

"Yeah; it was horrible! I was surrounded! I couldn't get out!" Ron shuddered, caught his breath and turned back to his friend.

"Now, can we talk about the Task and what happened?"

"Can it wait until later? The others are going to be up here any moment, and they are gonna be full of questions that, chances are, I don't have the answers to."

Ron nodded and went and got a cup of tea. When he returned he asked,

"What was that spell that you used, anyway? It didn't look like whatever you intended to do."

"It was supposed to be a Summoning Charm. I was trying to get my Firebolt. Instead it turned into a Disarming Charm that exploded on the ground after I ran for it."

Ron was in the middle of a sip of his tea when Harry said that. Ron sputtered into his cup and spilled a little on the floor.

"Crap! Sorry Harry."

Harry just stared at Ron for a moment in complete confusion while Ron spelled it away. When he had sat back up Harry said,

"What is going on with you?"

But before Ron could reply, the door burst open. Harry's felt his muscles tense up but when he saw that it was only Hermione, he relaxed a little.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, "You've got to come to the Common Room! Everyone wants to see you!"

Harry nodded and turned back to Ron,

"We'll talk later. And I think you had better be there too, Hermione. Come on."

They walked into the Common Room, and before Harry had even finished walking down the stairs, Fred and George Weasley grabbed him and hoisted him up on their shoulders. They paraded him around the room as though he were some kind of royalty

"That was BRILLIANT, Harry!"

"How did you manage that dragon? That had to be the nastiest lizard I've ever seen!"

It was just as Hermione had said: everyone plied him with questions about what had happened during the task.

"How did you avoid getting burned, Harry? That must have been some pretty fancy spellwork you did."

"I swear, I didn't do anything! It just happened; I thought I was dead, too."

"Did you put something on your skin?"

"No, I…"

This had to stop. Hermione had a sudden brainstorm and she shouted,

"Harry! Show us the egg!"

Taking the cue from her, the rest of the Gryffindors began to ply him about the egg that he had almost died for.

"Yeah, show us the egg! What's inside? Have you looked?"

Fred and George set him down so Harry could go get his egg. When he got back with it, he was greeted with more cheers and applause. A wide grin spread across his face.

"Who wants me to open it?" he asked the crowd, and they gave him more eager applause.

"Shall I open it?" he asked again with more vigor, and the noise that erupted from the small crowd was nearly deafening!

Harry plied the shell apart, expecting to see some kind of parchment or a riddle inside, but what came from that egg was nothing of the kind. An ear-splitting shriek emitted from it and the entire crowd covered their ears and begged him to close it; an act he was more than happy to perform. When the shell had been closed and the shrieks quieted, it was a full 15 seconds before the rest of the room got the courage to uncover their ears. It was another 30 seconds before someone ventured to speak. The first to find their voice was Neville.

"What do you suppose that was anyway?"

"I don't know," Fred Weasley replied, "You think he'll have to face a banshee next? It sure sounded like one."

More speculations were made as to what the shrieks meant, but that was about all it came to that night: speculation. Even with the strange turn of events during the First Task, there was a party in Gryffindor Tower that night. Harry was still being asked how he had avoided getting burned alive, but he felt thankful that everyone seemed to have bought Bagman's excuse about a Disarming Charm gone wrong instead of the Unforgivable that he had unintentionally cast. As the evening went on, he was asked several times to recount what had happened when the dragon had breathed fire on him. By the time he had regaled them with the tale for what seemed like the billionth time that night, Fred and George stood up and said,

"Alright everyone! Listen up! Tonight, Hogwarts has a new story that will be told for years to come: Harry and the Horntail! Let's all give a toast!"

"Harry and the Horntail!" the Gryffindors raised their glasses to him and drank.

For the first time in weeks, Harry finally felt peaceful. The party continued on for some time, but around 10 o'clock the students began filing into their dorms to go to bed. It had been a very exciting day, and one none of them would soon forget. However, three students remained in the Common Room after everyone else had gone to bed.

Ron, Harry and Hermione remained behind so they could talk privately without interruption. Hermione was the first to begin.

"Harry, I know you already said several times that the spell you cast was a Disarming Charm gone wrong, but something is bothering me about it."

"What?"

"That was not _Expelliarmus_ you cast. We have been practicing the Summoning Charm just so you could get your broomstick. And I distinctly heard you say, 'Accio Firebolt.' The spell you cast was not a Disarming Charm or a Summoning Charm."

"What did it look like to you?" he asked.

"It looked to me like _Avada Kedavra_. We only saw that spell once. How could you do it? Were you trying to kill that dragon?"

"You cast the Killing Curse? Harry! What were you thinking?" Ron exclaimed.

"I wasn't trying to kill the dragon. I already told you guys. I cast a Summoning Charm because I was trying to get my Firebolt, but it went wrong, somehow, and I had cast a Disarming Charm that bounced off that Horntail and exploded into the ground. I can't cast Avada Kedavra anyway. I'm not powerful enough."

"And then that whole business with the dragon. By all rights, you should be dead."

"Wait a moment, Hermione; I want to ask this one. We were talking about this earlier. Harry, what was it you thought you heard when the dragon tried to burn you?"

Harry put his head in his hands and cupped his chin with his palms. He thought for a moment before he turned back to Ron and replied.

"I could have sworn I heard…you."

"Me?"

"Yeah; you said something I didn't understand, but it sounded like 'nay listen valerian tie varyuva.'

"Uh…..what?"

"'Nay listen valerian tie varyuva.' I don't know; the sound of the flames drowned most of it out so I didn't get all of it except that last word: varyuva."

"Varyuva? What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"How should I know? Like I said: it was probably just my imagination. Now, I have a question to ask you."

"Okay?"

"What did Hermione mean when she said she caught you controlling fire without a wand? And you never mentioned anything about a girl before. Why is there a girl in the picture all of a sudden?"

Oh boy. How was he going to explain this one? He took a deep breath and said,

"Harry, please understand that as much as I would like to tell you absolutely everything, I can't. If I say too much I could be in serious trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Hermione asked, suddenly concerned, "You're not involved in something illegal, are you?"

Ron snorted in laughter and said,

"No, but it's something I can't talk about. Yes, Hermione, you did catch me doing something with the fire. Yes, I really know a girl named Lorien, but that is all I can say right now, okay? Believe me, you guys, if I could I would tell you everything if I could but I can't."

"Can you at least do whatever it was you were doing with the fire last night?"

"I, um, don't think that's a good idea."

"Controlling something without a wand is the mark of a very powerful wizard. Come on, Ron, if you can do it I would like to see it again."

"Yeah, so would I," said Harry.

Ron looked back and forth between his friends before replying,

"If I do this, I need your promise that you are not going to go to McGonagall or Dumbledore about it. This is something that is very private. Promise Harry?"

Harry nodded and then Ron turned to Hermione.

"Hermione? Promise not to say anything?"

She squirmed for a moment until replying,

"Fine, I won't say a word. However, I can't promise that I won't be in the library looking it up."

"I don't care what research you do, just don't go to any teachers. I don't want anyone to find out."

Hermione reluctantly nodded and leaned forward.

"So how do you do it?"

"Shhh. I need you to be quiet. I need to concentrate."

Hermione obliged and Ron stared at the fire in the fireplace and let his mind go blank like he had before. When the fire consumed his mind and all other thought was gone, he thought,

"_Get bigger_."

The fire gave a huge leap! It was not just the miniscule flickers that he had managed to get in the past. This was an accomplishment that only a few wizards had ever achieved, and Ron noticed something: he was getting better at it.


	6. Chapter 6

Meanwhile, beneath the dungeons of the castle in the Slytherin dorms, one particularly troubled Forth Year was staring into the fireplace and thinking of the same event that had been on his mind ever since it had happened: Weasley cursing his clothes off in front of the whole school. It was on the forefront of his mind even more so than the strange events of the day. First Weasley had cursed his clothes off with his clumsy spell-work, and then he had yelled at him in some weird, unintelligible language? It was too much for a Malfoy to bear.

He had owled his father immediately after it had happened, and his father had ensured that Weasley's father would pay through the nose for the embarrassment and possible "permanent psychological damage" to him. The thought made him smile, but would it be enough? He had mulled it over in his mind for the last several days and decided that it might be enough for his father, but it would never be enough for him. He was determined to make Weasley's life miserable; he just needed the perfect plan. He had already come up with several, but none of them hardly seemed good enough for the pain he was still going through.

Girls still giggled and blushed at him in the hallways. Boys pointed and laughed at him and called him all kinds of names. Of course he had threatened to make their lives miserable, but it hadn't worked. Oh, on some of the younger ones perhaps. He always managed to strike the proper fear into their weak hearts, but those in his class and above…..it was nearly unbearable. He gripped the arms of the chair he was sitting in until his knuckles turned white. His sneer deepened into a scowl, then a frown, then an absolute nasty glare that cleared the room quite quickly. As funny as Draco Malfoy's situation was, when he looked like that it was better to laugh about it in private lest you risk the possibility of your family being dishonored forever. Draco muttered nearly inaudibly to himself as he glared around the quickly emptying room,

"I'll get him. I'll make sure him and his damn brothers never see the light of day again. He'll wish he was never born, the stupid, lousy, idiotic, no-good excuse for a pure-blood. Not even worthy of the title; stinking blood-traitors. I'll bury them in the deepest hole I can find. Bury them alive, and bury them all so deep that no one will be able to hear them scream. All of them, from their fat mum to the little ginger girl. Oh yes, I'll bury them all."

He kept up like that until (like so many previous nights) his lids began to get heavy and his limbs grew weary. The scowl never left his face as he pulled himself from the chair and headed around the corner to his room. He took off his dressing gown and climbed into bed and slowly slipped off into dreams. Although tonight, his dreams were strangely troubled. He saw, on the landscape of his mind, a great Hall. It was not the Hall at Hogwarts, this place was grander. It was crafted of stone that appeared stronger than the stuff Hogwarts was made of, and throughout the stone were veins of what looked like silver, although it was brighter than any silver he had ever seen.

There were great columns that stretched from the tall double doors all the way to the end of the Hall. Each of them was carved to look like a thick, twisted tree that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and through them ran more thin veins of that bright silver. If he looked closely enough, Draco could have sworn the silver almost seemed to flow through the walls as though it was the very life-blood of the stone. Between each column was a window that let in bright sunlight, and was inlaid with complex patterns carved from metal and wood. The floor was laid with two different colors of rock: a darker color that formed the foremost part of the floor, and a lighter more vibrant stone that was nearly white. The darker stone had flowing patterns cut out of it that were filled in with the brighter, causing a stunning contrast that was unlike any Draco had ever seen in his life. Even the vast rooms at his home in Malfoy Manor were not as ornate as this place.

His eyes went from the gorgeous floor to the ceiling where the columns shaped like the thick trees continued to twist upward and form a great canopy of carved leaves and branches above his head. It was truly, in a word, beautiful. But the most stunning sight was at the end of the hall. A long platform had been raised about three feet from the floor, and upon it rested four thrones. But the thrones were not occupied by the most savory looking of characters. Instead of what looked like four benevolent rulers sitting on them, people (if they could indeed be called that) that looked like they could have easily done murder sat upon them.

As Draco looked at them, the beauty of the room seemed to diminish. The silver flowing through the walls tarnished, and the beautifully carved stone crumbled. As he observed them he almost felt his heart sink. He didn't want the brightness to go away. He had stumbled in the dark for a long time, and here he had finally glimpsed light. But it slipped through his fingers as sunlight is wont to do. But his mind turned from the diminishing brightness of the place, to the voices of the occupants of the thrones. They were unpleasant, nasty, mean, and Draco didn't like them in the least. They reminded him of something that he had once glimpsed inside of a shop inside Knockturn Alley.

Draco had been around nastiness most of his life, and as he looked at the monstrous-looking men sitting on the thrones he was reminded quite vividly of how nasty he himself had been to people and he felt an emotion that he had rarely ever felt in his life: shame. These men were horrible to look at, and more than once Draco nearly turned away in repulse at the sight of them. They wore crowns of gold on their heads, their clothes were finely made, and they looked, in all manner of the word, like kings. But their demeanor and their overall presence was repulsive and cruel. They had unkind looks on their faces, all manner of weapons on their persons and little bulges in parts of their clothing hinted to more weapons that might be hidden; their eyes were sharp as flint, and seemed as though they could cut just as easily.

But probably the most noticeable thing about them was the chains that were attached to their left wrists. Each was connected to a shackle clasped about the wrist, the chains themselves were only about a foot and a half long, but they were solid gold and set with precious jewels. The man on the far right throne had his chain set with rich rubies the color of blood. The man next to him had deep blue sapphires set into his chain. The third man had his chain set with brilliant clear diamonds, and on the far left, gorgeous forest-green emeralds decked the chain of the final king. Draco hid himself quite completely behind one of the gargantuan columns so the men didn't see him as he watched them, but he could see and hear them quite clearly and their conversation frightened him. The man on the far right throne said to his companions,

"There is a possible threat to us. My Dragon has grown headstrong and unmanageable. He claims that his true Master has reclaimed his birthright and the others will be found soon as well."

All four of the men scowled even more deeply, and Draco found himself cringing. These men were not right. Not right at all. But he continued to listen to them.

"How could such a threat even be feasible?" the man next to the far right throne growled. "We did away with those fools long ago. It is impossible they could have returned."

"It is not impossible, you great simpleton!" the first man shouted. "Did you honestly think those Four would give up so easily? No; they were smarter than that."

"First of all, do not call me a simpleton. I am a king, same as you. You do not rule me or the rest of us. Second of all, how do you suggest they could have lived on? I drove my blade into the King of Earth myself. His blood flowed over my hands, and I saw his eyes die."

Then he began to laugh, and Draco felt a knife of fear pierce his heart. The laugh was cruel, unfeeling, and utterly without human emotion. As he laughed the king said,

"I remember it well. He cried for his son, and his hands grasped at air as though it was the only thing that could save him. I was almost disappointed. He died too easily."

"Not easily enough, apparently," the king that occupied the far left throne remarked. "I have never known such Four who were harder to kill. What are we to do? Our very lives could be in jeopardy. If the Four have found a way to return….." he trailed off, and his scowl changed ever so slightly into a look of mild concern.

"Oh, my dear friend," the king on the far right soothed, "You always were the most cautious of all of us. But I believe we all worry needlessly. Even if those Four had found a way to return to the land of the living, they would be shadows of their former selves. Mere incorporeal spirits incapable of handling the lightest of arrows. The threat is mild, and my Dragon simply needs to be brought under control. I shall discipline him more severely should his great forked tongue run away with him again. Come, my friends. Let us put this event from our minds, and return to business at hand. I believe we have overgrown lizards to bring back under our control."

The other three kings laughed and once again, Draco found himself trying to steel himself against the sounds they made. They rang in his ears as though they were a massive church bell, but whatever had been holy about the ringing was wiped away. The only thing left was cruelty and malice, and Draco hated it. He had enough. He wanted to be away from these men and back in more familiar surroundings. He plastered his hands against his ears, squeezed his eyes shut, and whispered to himself,

"Wake up, stupid! Wake up! You're dreaming; wake up! Oh God, please wake up! I don't want to be here anymore; wake up!"

He pleaded with himself over and over to please rouse from this nightmare. These men were monsters! They looked human, but they were nothing of the kind. These people had done murder and were proud of it! How could such evil inhabit a place like this? He continued to try to prod himself awake, but it wasn't working. Then…..the worst that could have happened to him did happen. He opened his eyes the tiniest slit and saw the men were no longer laughing. No, they appeared to be listening. What were they listening for? Then he found out.

"Do you hear that noise?" the king with the sapphire-encrusted chain asked.

"I do," replied the king with the ruby-studded chain, "It sounds like a child."

"What would a child be doing here?"

"Snooping." The word was spoken with a kind of finality that meant death.

"Find him."

That did it for Draco. He was done pleading with himself. He turned and ran for the doors. He went as fast as he could, but the Hall was long and Draco was still a mere boy. His legs were not as fast as he needed them to be, but he ran even faster when he heard one of them scream,

"There he is! After him!"

He didn't dare look back. Instead he screamed,

"SOMEONE HELP ME!"

Of course, he didn't really expect anyone to answer his call. He was certain of his death. He knew that they would catch him and they would certainly kill him. These men did not care if he was a child or not. No one was here to help him. His last thoughts as he heard the thudding footsteps grow closer to him were,

"What am I even doing here? I was asleep in bed!"

Then they caught him. Draco had only just reached the doors, and placed his hands on the massive when he felt their rough hands on his shoulders. He uttered one final scream and collapsed in a dead faint.

Several hours later, Draco felt himself begin to rouse. The first of his senses to return was his hearing. Loud clanking sounds filled his ears and he felt his head swim again. He forced himself into consciousness. If he was going to die, he would do it like a man. He would not snivel and cry, like a little boy. The next of his senses to return was his sense of smell. A moist, earthy scent filled his nostrils and Draco thought: I'm in a dungeon underground. They didn't want to dirty up the throne room with my blood, so they put me in this stinking dungeon to rot. Then his sight began to swim back into focus. Soft green light filled the plane of his vision and slowly his eyes refocused themselves. He looked around and saw that he was not, as he had thought, in a dirty dungeon. He was in a forest glade. The clanking sounds that he heard were merely birds singing their song to welcome him back to the land of the living. The last sense to return, and this was worst of all, was a parching dryness in his throat that no amount of swallowing would cure. More than ever, he needed a drink of water.

His head swam again and he closed his eyes. It was better that way. When his eyes were closed, the dizziness and the thirst weren't so bad. Then he heard another noise: a voice. But this wasn't the harsh, malicious voices of those kings. This was a lady's voice. She said,

"Come back to me, Draco. Listen to my voice; come back to the light. _Lasto bethir; parar nun galad_."

That language; it was familiar. Where had he heard it before? Then his memory came back in a rush and his head swam so hard his stomach nearly revolted. It was the third time he had heard it. The first time was when he had heard Weasley say something in that language after he had cursed Draco's clothes off. The second time, he had only heard a whisper, but Weasley had said something during the First Task when Potter's spell-work had gone wrong and that Horntail nearly burned him to a cinder. Was there some connection?

"Draco? Answer me."

He opened his eyes again and this time, he tried to find his voice. But when he tried to use it, it came out as little more than a whispering croak. His throat felt hoarse and sore, and to talk was nearly excruciating, but he managed to get out a single word.

"Water."

It was the only thing he could say. His damaged voice would not allow more. Luckily, the Lady seemed to be waiting for this request. She placed her hand gently under his head and lifted it up. She brought a cup to his lips and when he felt cool liquid touch them he opened his mouth and allowed her to pour more over his dry tongue. As he drank she continued to speak to him, and he found that her voice was even more refreshing than the water.

"Go slowly. You have had quite an ordeal. If you drink too fast, you will only bring it up again. That's good for now. Your body must become hydrated slowly."

She took the cup away from him and laid his head back down. When he was comfortable he managed to ask a question. It was only two words, and after he spoke them his voice still stubbornly refused to return, but now that he had a little water his throat didn't feel quite as damaged.

"What happened?"

"Shhh. Don't talk so much now. You gave me quite a scare. What happened was you wound up in a place that you were not supposed to be. The place you saw was a Hall. It was, in fact, the throne-room of four very important individuals."

Draco tried to ask another question, but she placed her finger to his lips to silence him.

"Your voice is not well. If you keep speaking, you will permanently damage it. In a little while I will give you some medicine to soothe and cool it, but you are too dehydrated at the moment."

She lifted his head up again and put the cup to his mouth.

"Here; have another sip. By the way, my name is Lorien."

He eagerly drank the water, (she let him have a little more this time) and when it was half-empty she took the cup away and laid his head back on the soft grass. Then she continued describing what he had witnessed.

"The four men you saw are evil, but I believe you gathered that at your first glance at them. They killed the original owners of those four thrones and usurped their power. How in the world you got to that place, though, mystifies me. What were you doing before you found yourself in that place? Before you answer, have another sip."

She gave him a little more water, and when she took the cup away again Draco swallowed and answered,

"Sleeping."

"Sleeping? You were asleep in your bed at school?"

He nodded. She turned away from him for a moment and her face grew thoughtful. After a moment, she locked eyes with him again and said,

"You have the right to know what happened to you. They caught you. Yes, they got you and they were about to kill you. I managed to get you out of there, but not before they did some damage to you. Lucky for you, you had fallen into a faint from the stress of the situation."

Draco's eyes widened at this news and he looked down at his body to see where those men had hurt him. Then he saw that his right arm had been bandaged and placed in a sling. His lips curled down into a sneer and he thought,

"_They hurt me! They hurt me, and they are going to pay! My father will have them before the Ministry_!"

"I know what you are thinking, Draco, and believe me when I tell you that your Ministry of Magic will be unable to assist you. In fact, if you were to go before them and tell them what happened to you they would not believe you. I do not tell you this because I think you are an ignorant child incapable of telling the truth. I tell you this because you deserve the truth."

He licked his lips and asked,

"Why?"

"Why? Because I believe that you are part of something greater than you can imagine. A moment ago, I told you about those four Kings that were murdered by the individuals you saw in the throne-room. What I did not tell you was their plan to keep their power alive in the event of their deaths. You see, these Kings were immortal. They were granted this gift by the Valar who are the highest power in the world. The throne-room is located between the vale of earth and the Undying Lands, and it was in that place that the Four Dragon Kings ruled."

Lorien continued on with the story of the Great Kings and how they were both Master and Servant to the great Elemental Dragons from which all magic comes. When she came to the end about the part where each King had placed a portion of their power in their blood-lines, and if anything ever happened to them their power would live on. The lines had been lost, but they were now being rediscovered and the only way to know if a person was one of the four true Heirs to the thrones was by a small Mark somewhere on their body in the shape of the Dragon their ancestors had once communed with. The first of these Kings had been found: the King of Fire. When she had finished, Draco stared at her for a moment before croaking out,

"Am I one?"

"I do not know. The Fire King told me you might be, but I cannot know unless you tell me of a mark in the shape of a dragon you might have somewhere on your body."

He knew immediately where to look, but could he trust this woman? True, she had gotten him out of a bad situation (or so she claimed) but her word was really all he had to go on. He had no other proof. So, he just blankly stared at her as though he had no clue what she had just told him. But she pressed,

"Draco, the world of magic is dying. What you saw on the field with Harry was no accident. It is a direct result of the Dragons. The first King has been found, and when that happened they have begun to rebel even harder against their usurpers. If you are, indeed, one of the Kings then you can help save your world. If you are not, then you have lost nothing except a useless conversation. Please, just tell me the truth. Do you have such a Mark somewhere on your body?"

She seemed to be in earnest. Her face exuded genuine concern. Well, what could it hurt? That little mark on his foot was the whole reason he had gotten his name in the first place. Draco: the Dragon. Appropriate. He gestured with his good hand to his right foot and said,

"There."

She gently lifted his foot from the ground and took off his shoe and sock. The cool air hit Draco's bare skin and it made him shiver a little. He mentally uttered an oath at the sudden change in temperature, but he didn't speak. It hurt too much. Instead he studied this strange lady as she examined his foot. He hadn't really been paying attention to what she looked like before, but now that he was feeling better he couldn't help it. The first thing he noticed was her long, brown hair and how it somehow reminded him of a tree. Her hands were gentle as she examined him, and she had a pair of brown eyes that had little black flecks in them. It was those eyes that caught his attention. They were full of wisdom and care, and at once Draco knew that his assumption of distrust had been wrong. This Lady would never let harm come to him as long as he was in her care. She only examined his foot for a moment before she set it back down and said,

"You have one. I don't believe it, you actually have one."

He nodded and arrogantly sneered at her a little, but it did not go unnoticed and for the real first time in his life, Draco felt admonished and took her advice seriously.

"Don't sneer at me, Draco. I am not here to make you feel self-important. I am here to determine if you can help save Magic. Besides, such an ugly look is not becoming of a King."

He promptly wiped the sneer off his face. Why did this woman have such an effect on him? If anyone else had told him that, he would have laughed at them and sneered all the more. But the thought was erased from his mind as she reached into a pouch at her side and pulled some objects out. She laid them on the ground in front of him and said,

"These three objects were part of the Dragon Kings' power. Earth, Air, and Water are the three elements left to find. Let us see if one of these elements is yours to rule. Pick each one up. We'll know if you are a King or not."

Draco looked at the objects in front of him: a bright golden feather, an ugly, brown, dried-up seed, and a vial of nasty looking, oily liquid. This was how a King was chosen? Well, at least he didn't have to do anything strenuous. All he had to do was pick these things up; simple enough. He reached for the feather as it was the most attractive thing out of the three of them. He picked it up and stared at it, but nothing happened. He sneered again and asked,

"Is something supposed to happen?"

It was the longest sentence he had spoken since he had woken up, and pain shot through his throat like a knife. He grimaced and the Lady took the feather from him and placed it back in her pouch.

"Air is not yours. Try another one."

Draco scoffed and turned back to the objects in front of him. Only two left and both seemed pretty undesirable, but just for giggles he picked up the seed. He turned it over in his hand, but it remained the same: just an ugly, brown, dried-up seed that looked like it had no more life in it than the eyes of those so-called "kings." Lorien took the seed from him and placed it back in the little pouch at her hip.

"The Earth is not yours either. Try the last one."

Draco reached for it, but before he touched it he asked,

"What if it doesn't work?"

Her brows knit together in a mild look of worry before she replied.

"Then you are not the Heir to the Throne of Water and I must look elsewhere for him, and you have lost nothing. But if you are, then my search for the second King is over, and you become a part of something fantastic; even better than just being able to do magic."

He looked at her for a moment, and she gestured for him to pick up the vial. He looked down and thought,

"_I could be a King. Besides, like she said, if I'm not then I've lost nothing. And she did save me, so I guess I could at least give it a try_."

He took a deep breath and picked up the vial of nasty oily liquid. He held it in his hands for a moment, but nothing seemed to happen to it. He up from it and held his arm out to her.

"I guess I'm not it, then. Best look elsewhere."

"No, wait! Look!"

She pointed at the vial, and he looked back down at it. There in his hand, the liquid within the glass was becoming clearer. In a moment, the oiliness and dirtiness was gone from it, and it was completely purified. Lorien and Draco both stared in awe at it, and it was Draco who first found his voice,

"Did…did I do that?"

She nodded in confirmation.

"What do I do now?"

"Open it."

"What?" he looked up at her with confusion plastered on his face.

"Open the vial," she repeated, "Claim what is yours."

Now his hands were tingling with excitement. Draco pulled the stopper off the top of the vial, and the strangest, unusual, and most terrifying thing happened the moment he did. Not just a few drops of water were contained within the small vial. No, the instant the stopper was pulled from it an entire river erupted from the tiny thing! The glass vial shattered and tinkled into the grass, and the river engulfed the boy in its relentless rage. The water roared like some great beast that had finally been freed, and Draco was lost within its depths. Lorien called to him,

"It is alright, Draco! You can do this! You will not be harmed!"

He couldn't hear her. All he knew was the crushing pressure of the roaring river on top of him. He tried to scream, but he couldn't. He couldn't even make a sound, couldn't open his eyes, nor even breathe. He felt his lungs screaming for air and he had to breathe. He felt shards of ice pierce his chest as he reflexively drew in a breath. But then, something began to change. Draco found that breathing was not so difficult. In fact, it was the easiest thing he had ever done in his life. The ice in his chest became a warm current and the current flowed in and out of his mouth and nostrils as though he had done it all his life. Then the waters began to change. They didn't rage and foam anymore. Instead they calmed and decreased in size until they had diminished to the size of a small circular pool. From the pool Draco looked up and saw a circle of pretty green light above him. He thought,

"_Am I still underwater? Wait, if I'm underwater how am I breathing? People can't breathe underwater! Oh God, I'm gonna die_!"

In a panic he kicked his feet and rose to the surface of the water. When his head broke he felt the warmth that was in his chest drain and come up in a rush. Water flew from his mouth and vacuum in his lungs was replaced with air. He looked around and saw Lorien standing close by. He gasped as a little more water came up and he breathed out,

"Why didn't you help me? I was about to die!"

"I believe that if you take a closer look at yourself, Draco, you will see that you are in no danger of drowning."

"What are you talking about? I'm human! Humans can't breathe underwater! What were you thinking?"

"Draco, look at yourself! Look at your legs!"

Now he was scared. What had happened to his legs? He couldn't look yet, just…not yet. Instead he gingerly reached down and touched the side of his thigh. However, instead of feeling smooth skin that had always been there he felt rough bumpiness and his skin almost felt like knives when he rubbed it the wrong way. He went from feeling mildly afraid to downright terrified. He placed his hands on the sides of the pool and hauled himself onto the grass, and when he did get a good look at himself he nearly screamed again. His legs were no longer there. Instead, there was a long, graceful fish-tail sapphire blue in color, and his feet were now a powerful fluke capable of propelling him through the water faster than any pair of feet ever could have done.

"Wha…..what…happened to me? What did you do to me? My father will hear about this! When he gets his hands on you, he's gonna….."

"Draco!" she interrupted him, "Don't you get it? You're a King! You're one of the Four! You've claimed your birthright! My search for the King of Water is over!"

He just stared at her for a long moment before looking back at himself. Then he slowly asked,

"I'm…..I'm a King?"

"Yes, you are. And I believe that you have begun to return to your normal self as well."

Sure enough, the powerful fluke and the scaled tail were receding and becoming legs and feet again. It was only a few seconds before Draco was back to his human self and the moment he was, he stood up. When he did, he noticed that he was feeling loads better than he had when he had first woken up in this place. In fact, he felt as though he had never been sick at all. He looked around the glade and saw something on the ground that caught his eye. He walked over to it and saw a ring of purple fire on the ground.

"What is this?"

"That is the place where the King of Fire claimed his birthright. Flames engulfed him just as the waters engulfed you and he became Master of Fire."

"Who is this guy, anyway? Is it someone I know?"

"I believe you know him more as an acquaintance than anything. It is Ronald Weasley."

"W….Weasley? That little prat? Do you know what he did to me?"

"Yes, and part of being a King is giving mercy and forgiveness when it is due. It was he who found the mark on your foot, and it happened because Magic has begun to die; not because he was out to get you or embarrass you. You are both Kings and therefore Brothers in Arms. You fight on the same side now."

"We do?"

"You do. This is not a battle of politics or ideals, Draco. This is a battle for the survival of Magic. Your world as well as the world of those you once considered your enemies. Don't let it die."

"Well…..what can I do? I'm not exactly chummy with Weasley, and if I start and my father gets wind of it he'll be asking questions. I've got to keep up appearances."

"Well, my boy, you can try your best but one look at you and everyone will know there is something different about you. You have changed."

"Changed? How?"

"Your face no longer bears an ugly sneer and you look a bit more….fair of face, I should think would be the best way to put it. Like Ron, you now have the visage of the Elves."

"Elves? I have no desire to look like one of those low, inept creatures only fit for serving humans! And I've always thought Weasley was about as good-looking as a house-elf. I don't know what that Granger girl sees in him. 'Course, she's a Mudblood so that probably explains that."

Lorien sighed in frustration at this boy's ignorance and said,

"Not the elves that you know today, Draco. The Elves I am speaking of were the fairest and wisest of all creatures that ever existed. It was they who brought elements of beauty and art to the world. No, the Elves I knew were remarkable beings and they often communed with me. We were great friends."

"You talk about them like you knew them, but I've never seen any of these kinds of Elves. How old are they?"

"You will not find any of them here. They all went to the Undying Lands long ago."

"How long ago?"

"Before you were born. That is enough questions for tonight. But before I part ways with you, I have one final gift for you."

"A gift? What kind of gift?"

Lorien reached into her pouch and brought forth a gold chain with a small pendant on the end of it. She held it out to him and said,

"This pendant will mask your new appearance. You will look no different to your classmates. However, I must caution you. You have only just come in to your powers. Be careful about using them too soon."

Draco took the chain and placed it around his neck. When he had done so, a sudden thought popped into his head.

"Hey wait a second! If Weasley is the King of Fire, does that mean that it was him who protected Potter during the First Task today? And what did he call me the day he cursed my clothes off?"

"Very well, but these are the last questions I will answer tonight. Yes, Ron did protect his friend today by manipulating the dragon's fire so it would not burn him. A rather impressive feat for one who is still inexperienced with his powers, I must say. As to what he called you that day, I was not there. I do not know what he called you. Was it an insult?"

"Sure sounded like one, but I couldn't understand what he said."

"Don't worry; you will soon enough. It comes with the territory. Right now, he can only speak that language when he is under an extreme mood: excitement, fury, even happiness. You are the same. Soon you will be able to speak bits of the language, but it will come more naturally. Now, I have a task for you.

"A job? But I thought you said I only just came into my powers and they would take time to develop. What kind of job could I possibly handle?"

"A simple one: help me find the other two. Our side is gaining power, but we need the others to be victorious. Whether you are obvious about trying to find them out, or if you are sly about it is completely up to you. But I need this help from you no matter how you choose to do it. Oh, and should you choose to call one of your classmates a "Mudblood" again, it will be bad for you. As a King, you are to honor all beings no matter what their lineage. I would clean up my language if I were you."

"Are you threatening me? 'Cause if you are, then…"

She rounded on him and grabbed him by the shoulders. It scared him more than anything he had seen that night. She gave him such an angry look, and it was that look that sent him quaking in his skin. Her words were quick jabs and every one of them hit where they were supposed to go.

"Do not think you can intimidate me with cheap threats and thoughts of petty revenge. You are no longer part of your father's world. You gave that up when you claimed your birthright. I do not tell you the things I do because they are shallow bits of advice for you to take at your own fancy. I tell you what I do because it is what needs to happen."

She released him and Draco thought,

"_She could kill me if she wanted to_."

"Draco," she said a little more gently, "I am glad that the search for the King of Water is over. But like the element you now rule, you are often unforgiving. Forgiveness and Mercy are two of a King's greatest weapons. It is these, more than any number of swords, bows, and spears, which allow him to be honored and respected by his people.."

She looked upward and then back down to him.

"It is time to say goodnight, my friend. Do not take off that pendant; help me find the other two. We will meet again soon, but next time we do it will be with Fire and Water. Now go and rest. You have earned it."

"Are you some kind of counselor?"

"I am a messenger and a mentor. Good night."

The green glade and the woman began to fade. Very quickly they were gone from his vision, and Draco had the sense that he was moving very fast. It was almost like flying, but more solid. It was, without a doubt, the most comfortable way he had ever traveled by magic. Soon the sensation was gone, and he opened his eyes. What greeted them was his dorm at Hogwarts, his warm blankets that shut out the cold, and the impassive stone walls that now seemed almost like a prison. Suddenly, Draco felt tired. He closed his eyes just for a moment to rest them, and promptly fell asleep.

He awoke several hours later being rudely awoken by the sound of his alarm screaming at him. The minute he opened his eyes he found that he had a burning thought in his mind, and it was one he thought he would never have in his life,

"_I've got to talk to Weasley._"

The thought mulled around in his mind for a less than a moment before he propelled himself out of bed, threw on a pair of fresh robes, and rushed up to the Great Hall. He made a bee-line to the Slytherin table, and filled his plate with all his favorite breakfast foods. He tried to ignore the urgency of the singular thought rolling around in his mind, but it wouldn't leave him alone. It bloody plagued him.

"_I've got to talk to Weasley. We're on the same side now. We're Brothers in Arms. I've got to talk to Weasley_."

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He reached down into his bag and pulled out a quill, a piece of parchment, and inkwell. He scrawled a quick message down on the parchment and looked over at the Gryffindor table. How could he get this message to Weasley without alerting the other two? He certainly didn't need the great Harry Potter on his case nor that overly-smart Mudbl…wait. He was supposed to clean up his thoughts and treat people with respect. He was a King, and forgiveness and mercy were his greatest weapons. Lorien had said so. Well, even so, he didn't want the other two hounding him and possibly spying on him for information. Problem was, Weasley was almost never alone. If he wasn't with Potter and Granger, he was usually with one of his bumbling brothers. Then he thought of it.

Today during Care of Magical Creatures, he would find a way to slip the note into his bag or pocket or something. Those Blast-Ended Skrewts were becoming a handful and everyone was usually pretty distracted with them to really notice what the other humans around them were doing.

At eleven o' clock that morning, Draco put his plan into action. The Slytherins and the Gryffindors headed down to Hagrid's cabin to begin Care of Magical Creatures, and when they got there, sure enough, the Skrewts were waiting for them. Hagrid said to them,

"All righ' then; everyone gather 'round. Today we're gonna see if the Skrewts hibernate. Ye'll just be nipping 'em into these crates, and we'll see what they do. I've lined 'em with fluffy blankets and comfy pillows, so if they do hibernate we'll find out soon enough."

Draco spoke up,

"And how exactly are we supposed to just 'nip them into those crates?' They've got to be six feet long and I don't fancy getting burned today."

Hagrid produced several leashes made from rope and passed them out.

"What ye'll do is tie the leash around 'em and lead them real gentle-like into the crates. Jus' do yer best."

"And where are we supposed to tie them around: the blasting end or the sucking end? Either way one of will be going to the Hospital Wing."

"Tie 'em round the middle. Jus' be careful."

Draco tried to sneer, but found that his lips seemed to have lost the skill. Instead all he managed to do was form a kind of grimace that earned him a poke in the side from his friend, Gregory Goyle, and the question,

"You alright? You look like you got a stomach ache."

"I'm fine, you idiot! Leave me alone!"

Goyle stepped back. He was used to Draco yelling at him and calling him names, but something about him was different today. Almost as though he had gone through some kind of change overnight. But this thought was in and out of his mind as quick as a puff of wind. Such was the way of Gregory Goyle. He turned back to trying to tie his leash around the end of the Skrewt he was attempting to lasso, while Draco turned his attention to something different.

He spotted what he was looking for: Weasley's school bag. Now if only Weasley would just look away for a moment, he could drop his note in the bag and go on with this lesson. Finally, it happened. The ultimate distraction provided by one particularly bad-tempered Skrewt. Apparently, the Skrewts did not hibernate for as soon as they had been placed in the crates they began to throw the most horrid of temper-tantrums. The wood from the crates splintered as the Skrewts blew them up with their Blasters, feathers flew like snow, blankets were ripped to shreds, and one Skrewt did something the students had seen them do several times, but every time it happened they were never quite prepared for it. As soon as it had blasted itself out of its crate one brave Gryffindor tried to grab hold of the leash that was still tied around its middle, but the Skrewt "blasted off" fifteen feet away and took the poor Gryffindor with it. Hagrid and all the other students went to the aid of the unfortunate student, but Draco took the opportunity to quickly drop the note into Weasley's school bag before taking off towards the scene where the Gryffindor was now trying to avoid being "blasted off" again. It was one ride that he never wanted to take again as long as he lived.

The poor kid was now dusting himself off and the rest of the Gryffindors made sure he was alright while the Slytherins did nothing but look on and laugh. Draco felt a mix of emotions. He knew that this was supposed to be a funny situation. A Gryffindor had just eaten about ten feet of grass and dirt and he was now all messy. He remembered that he was supposed to laugh at this, but could not bring himself to do it. A new emotion was taking place and Draco couldn't place it, but he had the distinct feeling it had something to do with what had happened to him last night.

After the Skrewts had been placed back in their original metal-and-magic-reinforced cages and homework was given out, Care of Magical Creatures finally ended, and Draco took off with the Slytherins to his next class. He could only hope that Weasley would find the note and they would be able to talk alone without interruption. In the meantime, all he could do was wait.

The remainder of the day passed all too slowly for him. His classes felt entirely too long, the homework given to them seemed too difficult, and somehow the castle didn't seem as bright as it once had been. Perhaps that was just his imagination though. Dinner time came and went with all the appeal of another go-round with the Blast-Ended Skrewts, and Draco kept looking nervously toward the Gryffindor table to see if Weasley might have found the note and was discussing it with Potter and Granger. In fact, he looked over there so often that Goyle and Draco's other lackey, Crabbe, caught him. He didn't even realize that he had gone from just glancing to downright staring.

"Erm….Draco? Is there something over at that side of the room?" Goyle asked.

He didn't even acknowledge the boy; he just kept staring at Those Three.

"Draco?" Goyle asked again, but this time Crabbe offered his assistance as well by giving Draco a smart jab to the ribs.

"Ow!" Draco hissed, "what was that for?"

"You were staring at the Gryffindor table. Is something over there?" Goyle stupidly asked.

Draco glanced over at the table again, and saw them getting up. Apparently they had other things to do.

"No," Draco answered, "There's nothing over there that I don't already know about. Muggle-lovers and Mudbloods, the lot of 'em. I don't know why we don't just do away with those idiots in the first place."

Those were the words he spoke, but he felt a horrible pang of guilt as he said them. He turned back to his dinner, but found that he had no more appetite so he pushed the plate away and got up. He couldn't take this anymore. Even if he was bored and had to wait all night, he was going to the place he had designated to Weasley in his note: the empty classroom on the second floor of the castle. This was a bit of a secret place amongst the students. When one wanted to be alone to think, do homework, or be alone with a girlfriend or boyfriend this was the classroom in which to do it in. To let the others know that the room was occupied, all a student need do was change the color of the door-knob from silver to brass and no one would bother you. It was actually quite clever, and it was the trick that Draco was going to use tonight. He took his books in the room with him and quickly tapped the door-knob with his wand and the color went from shining silver to deep brass. He would not be bothered. He closed the door, opened his book, and waited. For several hours he waited. He heard the castle bell chime 10. Then 11. Then midnight. It was getting late, and Draco was getting tired. After the bell chimed the midnight hour he put down the book he had barely been paying attention to and grasped the pendant that hung around his neck.

She had said that this would disguise his new appearance, and he thought,

"_I don't even know what my new appearance looks like. She said I looked like an Elf, but not one of the elves of today. I wonder what that meant. Maybe Weasley can answer some of this. If he was the first one discovered, then he's probably seen her the most. I cannot believe that I am doing this. This is so stupid! Why would he come, anyway? A cryptic note dropped accidentally into a bookbag? I wouldn't come. Of course, Weasley never was the brightest candle in the box. But if he's a King now, wouldn't he…_"

Just then his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Draco nearly flew out of his chair and to the door. He opened it a bit too quickly, and when he saw who was there he could have just about danced. It was Ron; his note had worked! But when Ron saw who it was that had summoned him here in the dead of night, his brow furrowed in anger and he turned to go without a word.

"Wait a second, Weasley! I need to talk to you!" Draco hissed.

Ron didn't even turn around. He just kept walking.

"Weasley, stop! I said I needed to talk to you!"

Ron turned around and nearly yelled,

"You do not rule me, Malfoy! I'm not playing your sick game!"

"Weasley….Ron! Please!"

Okay, that worked. Ron wheeled around completely and utterly confused. The use of his first name and a polite word? Something was wrong with this kid. You don't just radically change overnight. Perhaps he was sick?

"Please," Draco repeated, "I need to talk to you. It's about Lorien."

"How do you know about her?"

"Can we talk in the classroom? I promise: no tricks, no spying, and no dishonesty of any kind."

"Prove it."

Prove it? Crap; how was he going to prove he wasn't just trying to be tricky or get his father in trouble? He had to think fast. Then it came to him. He didn't know if it would work, but he could try.

"Last o birth. Pagan nunegay lad," he stumbled out. That didn't sound right, but then again he wasn't extremely excited.

"What?" Weasley asked looking more confused then ever.

"Um, that wasn't right. Let me try again. Um…Last 'o bertha; pag….uh….paga….I don't know how to say it."

"Are you trying to speak a different language?"

"Can we please talk in the other room?"

Draco heard the note of desperation in his own voice and hated it. He had never tried to sound desperate for anything, but he did not want to get caught out here. King though he may be, Filch was still not a character he wanted to deal with. Weasley gave him a narrowed look, but thankfully he replied,

"Fine; but I swear if you are trying to trick me, I will break every bone in your body."

"Fair enough. Just give me a few minutes."

The look of distrust was more apparent on Weasley's face than ever, but at least he was going to talk to him. The two boys slipped into the door and when it was shut Ron snapped at Draco,

"Now what do you want, Malfoy? You got me in here, so make it quick."

"Okay, um…I guess…uh, I should start at the beginning. Um…I know about Lorien because she told me about you and what you are now."

"And what am I? A blood-traitor? A Muggle-lover? A disgrace to wizards everywhere? And how exactly did you meet Lorien?"

"I met her because you're the one who told her about what you saw on my foot! Like I said: I know what you are…You're Majesty."

Ron's eyebrows flew up in surprise and sudden understanding. No way; this was impossible. He hadn't even been sure of what he had seen that day. It was a total accident! Everything had been an acci…..hang on a moment!

"Wait, did you just call me 'You're Majesty?'"

"Yes I did. And perhaps you should call me the same, if this is all really true."

"If what is really true, Malfoy? Tell me."

"If everything that happened last night wasn't just a dream. If this pendant around my neck is really disguising some sort of way that I now look. If I wasn't suddenly able to breathe water like air and turn into a…." he trailed off and was lost in the memory of seeing his legs and feet as a tail before he regained his composure and started,

"Never mind what I turned into. The point is: if it was all real, and everything she said was true, then you and I are now fighting on the same side and I am no longer your enemy."

Ron was wheeling. Malfoy; Draco Malfoy: the son of one of the most well-known supporters of You-Know-Who was claiming to be on his side now? There had to be a catch or a trick somewhere in all of this. People don't just radically change their position on anything like this. No, something had to be up and he was going to find out what."

"Alright, let's suspend reality for a second and let's say I believe you. You told me that pendant around your neck was disguising you some way. Take it off, and let me see the real you."

"I know that you have one as well. Why don't you take yours off first?"

"I am not the one who has constantly bombarded and hammered your friends and family with threats, lies, and schemes. Reveal what you really look like. That is, if what you have told me is true."

Draco had to do it. Besides, he was curious as to what he now looked like as well. He grasped the chain hanging about his neck and pulled it off. Ron scrutinized his face, but apparently there had been no change because he scoffed and threw his hands up.

"I knew you were lying. Once a liar, always a liar."

And he turned to go.

"Wait! I'm holding it! Let me put it down! It's still touching me!"

Draco was near to the point of panicking. Why he needed Weasley to believe him so badly, he didn't know, but if he couldn't get his trust then this war was as good as lost. He put the pendant down on the table and shouted in anger,

"Look at me, Weasley! Look at me and tell me what you see!"

Without turning around Ron started,

"I see nothing except a slimy worm, Malfoy! If you honestly believe that I….."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, turn your impetuous face around and look me in the face!"

At the sound of his full name (and the utter embarrassment that Malfoy knew his humiliating middle name) Ron literally felt fire flow through his veins. His internal temperature began to rise and something began happening to him. His skin went from pale white to a glowing reddish-brown. His hair turned redder than any Weasley had ever boasted and it seemed to have its own light. Even his eyes appeared to have turned to flaming red embers and for a moment Draco was frightened by the sudden change in appearance. Ron turned around and shouted in fury,

"_Who are you that you believe you can tell me what I am to do, Foul Beast of Morgoth! I forever name you this because that is what you are! Your soul is blacker than the soot of Orodruin and ranker than the inhabitants of Angmar!"_

Now Draco was just as furious. His fear left him and he shouted back,

"_I am no Beast of Morgoth! I am the Dragon King of Water, and you shall respect me! I came to you in respect tonight because you are the Dragon King of Fire! We are Brothers-in-Arms! Look at my face and you shall know!"_

At these words, Ron backed off a bit. His skin and hair cooled as though he had somehow been extinguished. He looked at Draco and realized that what the boy had said was true. It was still Draco Malfoy that stood before him, but he looked much changed. His hair was no longer slicked back into an overly-neat coif as it had been a moment ago; it was a bit longer and not so blindingly white. It had begun to darken a little. His face was no longer hard and unfeeling as stone, and his lips were not curled down into a sneer. It was as though they had been wiped away and replaced with expressions and feelings far more pleasant and easy to respect. But his ears were probably the most noticeable physical feature. They came up into perfect points at their tips. Yes, this was indeed Draco Malfoy that stood before him but it was not the same boy that had threatened his family for the last three years.

Ron softened completely and the fire that had been heating up his insides was completely extinguished. It was plain old Ronald Weasley that stood there now, and he was compelled to do something as well.


	7. Chapter 7

**I do apologize for taking so long to post this next chapter. It's a shorty, but I hope that you'll find it entertaining. More to come soon after, I promise. I have not given up on this. In the meantime, please enjoy.**

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><p>Ron took off his amulet and placed it next to Draco's. The instant it left his skin, his entire appearance altered. He was just as tall as he was before, but muscles were more toned and he was less lanky and awkward. His movements were more graceful and fluid, and his senses appeared to be more attune to his surroundings. Every so often, his eyes would dart to a corner where a slight movement was perceived or his ear would prick at a sound that might have been heard. His hair no longer had the dull single shade of red indicative of every member of the Weasley family. It was longer and a brighter red; like polished copper and it fell from his head in a burnished flame; lustrous and quite dazzling. His eyes remained blue now they almost glowed. Think of the flame on a match. When you strike the match, it bursts into life then it dies down a bit. That was the way his eyes were. The blue in them would flare up and die down with his mood. Such was the way of the fire that now coursed through his veins. However, the most noticeable feature him was his ears. They came into perfect points at their tips, and it was the first thing that Draco's eyes were drawn to. He pointed at Ron's head and exclaimed,<p>

"Weasley, your ears! You have pointed ears!"

"So do you."

"I….I do?"

Draco reached up to touch his right ear and felt that the soft cartilage had lengthened and came up higher than he remembered, and when his fingers brushed the tips of his ears his eyes widened in amazement.

"Wow. That's…..wow."

Looking at each other, and they both knew: they were no longer enemies. They were now brothers. Each would have the others back if aid was needed. Draco reached out his hand and Ron clasped it about the wrist. They shook hands and Ron said,

"You are my brother, and I am yours. I will come to your aid when you have need of it. You are no longer my enemy. Let the past remain in the past."

Draco nodded his head and replied,

"I've never had a brother. This will be interesting. But yes: the past will remain in the past. We are no longer rivals locked in petty battle and separated by blood status. I will come to your aid if you require it. We are allies."

They let go of each other's hands and for a moment they were silent but Draco broke it by saying,

"Who would have thought that we would be allies someday?"

Ron laughed and said,

"Not I. But listen; we are Kings now, but Mr. Filch doesn't know that. If we are caught outside our beds at night, we'll get into trouble."

"Losing House points and detentions hardly seem important at the moment."

Ron smiled and replied,

"I agree, but we must keep up appearances for now. As far as everyone else is concerned we are simply Gryffindor and Slytherin students who are bitter enemies. So when we pass each other in the halls or have class together, you must still ignore me or insult and berate me and my family, and I must do the same to you."

"My opinions and thoughts are much changed. I don't know if I can act quite the same as I did."

"You must until the others are found. You or I cannot let anyone know of our alliance."

Draco nodded and said,

"I will do all I can. By the way, have you told Potter and Granger anything?"

"All they know is that I can do things to fire without using a wand. I messed up a little and called Lorien's name out loud after the First Task so they are suspicious of something, but I am trying to do damage control."

"What did you say to protect Potter from the Dragon's Fire?"

"I said, 'May the grace of the Valar protect you.' He's my friend. I couldn't just see him die like that. Besides, he's needed for other tasks."

"You mean Voldemort."

"Yes; him."

The two downcast their eyes for a moment and Draco said,

"It sounds like we need to have a meeting with Lorien soon and find out what to do."

"I agree. Did Lorien ask anything of you before you guys said goodbye?"

"Yes; she asked me to help find the other two. She was quite urgent about it."

Ron squared his shoulders and replied,

"Then we must double our efforts. Did she tell you what to look for?"

Draco nodded and said,

"A small Mark on their body in the shape of a dragon. There could be thousands of those, though. How do we know?"

"We can't. All we can do if we find one is tell Lorien and let her handle the rest. She is the one who holds the items that let the true Heirs claim their birthright, anyway. By the way, what happened when you claimed yours?"

"Lorien gave me a small vial of water. It was oily, dirty, and utterly unusable. When I held it, though, it became pure and Lorien told me to open the vial. When I did, the water inside the vial became a raging river that swallowed me. I thought I was going to die, but I didn't. Instead I found that I could breathe the water just as easily as the air, and when I found this the river no longer raged and roared. Instead, it became a pool. I pulled myself from it and when I did I saw that I was a….."

"What? You were a what?"

"A…..a merman. I had fins and a tail instead of feet and legs. I guess that happens when I immerse myself in the water. I don't know; I'll have to try it out sometime. But that's basically what happened to me. How was it with you?"

"She gave me a jar of ashes. The lid appeared rusted shut, but I opened it quite easily. After I opened it, I poured the ashes into my hand and they burst into flame. That flame crawled all the way up my body until I was completely covered with fire. It burned me, and I thought I was going to die, but the fire turned purple and I no longer felt pain. Instead, I felt what I can only describe as power. When the flames died down I stood in the center of a ring of fire and Lorien called me 'Your Majesty.' It was the single most frightening, exhilarating, and exciting experience of my life, and nothing will ever equal it."

Outside the clock chimed three a.m. and the boys took notice. Ron continued,

"All stories aside, we must rest for the time being. We have class in the morning, and it is late. Tomorrow we will see if we cannot find some way to find the other two as quickly as possible."

Draco agreed and he picked his amulet back up and placed it around his neck. Ron did the same and their appearances went back to what they had been before they had claimed their birthrights: plain, awkward, and quite mortal. They clasped hands once again, and when they let go Draco sneered and said,

"Get out of my way, Weasley. Filthy, Muggle-loving, blood-traitor. You're not even worthy to carry the title of wizard. Why don't you go back to your little hovel and stay there? "

Ron frowned and furrowed his brow a little and said,

"My house may be small, but at least my parents don't always walk around like they have a nice hunk of dung under their nose. Does your father know that you cheated on the last test about the Goblin Wars? I think I fancy writing a letter to him and signing your name to it."

The boys stared each other down like they were the worst of enemies for a short moment before they began to laugh and Ron said,

"Yeah, that'll do. Come on; let's get out of here. I'll go first, and you follow behind after two minutes. Oh, and don't forget about the doorknob."

"You got it."

Ron turned away and opened the door. He looked around and made sure the coast was clear before exiting. Two minutes later he was back in his dorm and safely in bed with the covers tucked around him. Now it was Draco's turn. He opened the door and saw that there was no one there. He gently stepped out and closed the door as soundlessly as he could. He tapped the doorknob with his wand and it turned from brass to silver. He turned to go, but he heard something that made him turn back around: a splash. He looked around for the source of the water dripping and quickly found it. The doorknob he had just tapped had become water, and that water was now all over the floor.

It was not a great deal of water, but it was definitely noticeable. He pointed his wand at the floor and tried to spell the mess away, but something happened then that made the whole thing worse. A great stream of water flowed from his wand and it wouldn't shut off no matter how many times he would speak the word that was supposed to turn it off.

"Nox! Come on, I said Nox! Nox! Nox! Blasted thing; TURN OFF!"

That did it. The flow of water ceased after he screamed at his wand, but he was certain he had grabbed the attention of those who he was trying to avoid. He didn't care at this point. He turned and ran from the mess he had made having no desire to face an inquisition from Filch. He ran all the way back to the Slytherin Common Room before anyone could see him and jumped between his blankets without bothering to undress. He would be an absolute mess the next morning, he knew, but at this point he really didn't care. His emotions were so jumbled right now that he couldn't really sort them out. On one hand, he had his reputation to keep up as a snotty little brat. On the other, he was a King who was supposed to help save the world of magic. And on top of that (mind you he had to test this) when he got wet his body went through a drastic transformation, and he couldn't control his powers yet. Through the rest of the night, he found his mind was too busy to sleep. All he could think of was these things and all too soon his alarm rang through the air again; bringing him back to the waking world and all it had to offer. Among these were boring classes, impetuous teachers, and spells that would most likely not work right. He and Weasley had to hurry. It was only a matter of time before someone got seriously hurt.


	8. Chapter 8

As Draco awoke, though still feeling a bit drained, he felt a new strength invigorate his limbs. After the previous night's events, he woke up a bit earlier than he normally did, and he decided that he was going to use his free time to take a bath. He was still curious about that whole business with his legs, and he wanted to see what would happen. Not to mention, he was stilled dressed in his clothes from the previous day and he felt quite uncomfortable. His roommates, Goyle and Crabbe, were still sleeping. He tiptoed past their beds with more grace than was usual for him, his feet barely making a noise on the hard, stone floor. He got to the bathroom and eyed the tub suspiciously. He wanted to know what would happen to him when he immersed himself in the water, but he was frightened of it as well. A thrill of expectant fear trickled down his spine as he turned the faucet on. He put his hand under the water to test the temperature, and then quickly withdrew it. He wanted to test what would happen if he just got his skin wet. Nothing happened, and he breathed a sigh of relief. At least he knew that he would not transform in the middle of class just because he got his hands wet. The tub quickly filled with warm water, and, just in case someone might come in while he was in there, he put some Long-Lasting Bath Bubbles in the water. Draco then disrobed. He gingerly put one leg in the water and left if there for a moment. Still, nothing happened. Okay, if one leg got wet he would be fine. He then put his other leg in the water and left it there. Once both of his feet got wet, he began to feel different. His feet felt funny, and the skin on his legs that were in the water was itchy. He watched his legs and saw that his feet were beginning to grow a bit longer, and the hue of the skin on his legs had become to change to a blue color and the texture become rougher. He concluded that this transformation would only take place when both of his legs were wet. Now, it was time. He lowered his whole body into the warm water, and he immediately felt a change in his body take place. He felt his ankles snap together and become more flexible. They became a single hinge joint, like a dolphin's tail, that would allow him to propel himself through the water with incredible speed. His feet flattened and elongated, and the skin from his ankles to his waist became bumpy and scaled. The transformation was not only to his outward appearance, but inside of him as well. He felt his lungs expand and contract in a different way. It dawned on him, that he might now have a set of lungs that could filter both the air and the water. Because of the bubbles in the tub, Draco couldn't see his lower half. All he could do at this point was feel the changes that had suddenly taken place. He took a deep breath and lifted his legs out of the water. At the sight of his new body, his eyes widened in shock and surprise. Where his feet had been, there was now a powerful fluke, the color of blue topaz, capable of rocketing him through deep water. His legs were now a tail that had two joints: one at the ankles and one at the knees. He was in a confined space, still, but he knew that when he got out in the open water, he would be a force to be reckoned with. The color of his new appendage was a deep, sapphire blue that glimmered and shone in the light. He put his lower half back in the water, and lifted his arms out. He was surprised once again when he saw short fins on the outside of his arms. Every three inches, there sprouted a long barb about five inches long, black in color and banded with white. Between each of the barbs was tough, cartilage-like tissue that was the same deep-blue color as his fluke. Draco didn't know if it was instinct or his power that was slowly beginning to manifest itself, but he knew without a doubt that those barbs were poisonous. Draco stared at his arms and breathed out, "This is amazing!" He felt different in this shape, and more so than just physically. He felt…..peaceful. Like the water was where he truly belonged. This was his element, and it was his home. For once in his life, he felt as though nothing could harm him. Not even the Dark Lord's forces could dare take him on. He would sweep them aside as though they were chaff in the wind. Not only this, but with two found and only two more to find, they had a real chance. A smile spread across his face as he pondered this, but something happened then that promptly erased it. The room suddenly got cold. So cold, in fact, that Draco could see his breath hanging in the air. The atmosphere felt heavy and suffocating, and Draco knew that something was dreadfully wrong. He spoke to the air, "Hello? Who's there?" "I sssssee you have claimed what it isssss yourssss. I offer my congratulationssssss, little King," an unseen voice hissed. Draco paled at the sound of the concealed speaker. The voice was utterly black and lifeless. Not even the castle ghosts sounded so ghastly. Not only that, but the speaker seemed to imbue anger within him; anger so deep and red that he would gladly kill the first person who dared cross him. He felt that old spark of nastiness rise within him, and his lips began to curl into their old sneer. He retorted to the voice, "Who are you and what do you want?" "Ah, I sssssee that you are a tad more inquisssssitive than the other; I like that. As to my name, like your brother-in-arms, you can call me 'Your Majessssty.'" "I assume this 'other' you're talking about is the Fire King, am I right?" "You are correct, little fish." Draco continued to try and mentally fight off this….whatever it was. He was determined not to give in to this malevolence, but he was finding it more and more difficult. Besides, he wanted some answers. He asked the Voice again, "What do you want? Who are you?" The voice gave a little chuckle, and the sound sent a shock of spine-snapping fear through Draco's body; the kind of fear where you know that your very soul is in danger. The Voice hissed, "Ssssuch sssimple quessssstions. And yet, how to answer?" Draco was losing this battle. He was beginning to fall under this unseen being's spell, but a stream of free will still coursed through him. He found his confidence, and his words flowed from his mouth accentuated with power. He shouted to the heavy air, "Go away! I have no interest in you! Leave me, and the King of Fire, be!" "Assss the little King wisssshes, We'll meet again, 'your Majessssty.'" The Voice spoke those final words with a great deal of sarcasm, but, nevertheless, it left. The air suddenly felt lighter, the water Draco was in felt warmer, and his breath no longer hung in the air. In an instant, life had flowed back into the room. Draco lifted his lower half from the water one more time to look at his tail just to have a distraction from that terrifying encounter. He then pulled his body from the tub and onto the floor. The moment he pulled himself from the water, his tail separated and became legs again, the poisonous barbs disappeared from his arms, his fluke shortened and became a working set of feet once again, and his lungs no longer could filter the water. The transformation began fifteen seconds after he got out of the water and only took about a minute to complete. Even though Draco was still wet, he was no longer a merman. He thought to himself, "Well that's clever: change only occurs when both of my legs are completely submersed. Now that that's out of the way, I've gotta talk to Ron about that Voice. Something is rotten here." Meanwhile, in the Forbidden Forest, something moved unseen amongst the trees. It gave off an air full of hatred, malice, and cruelty. It glided through the trees with unnatural fluidity, and everything alive in the forest ran in fright from it. Whatever this thing was, nothing good would ever come of it. This thing had one purpose: undo whatever good these Kings were trying to do, and, if he could find them, kill them before they realized who they were. The first two proved strong; he would have to work hard to bring them under his control. With the way things were at the school right now, it was only a matter of time before the other students would be at each other's throats. The creature delighted in the chaos. All he need to was bide his time a little more. He would subtly influence things around the place to make them more tumultuous. Oh yes, by the time he was done with this place, he would be gloating over the bodies of the new so-called 'Kings." "Plotting again? Honestly, don't you have anything better to do?" There was a cold swish of air, as the unseen speaker whipped around to find the owner of the voice that seemed to address him. Then, he saw her. That cursed woman who never let him rest. Inwardly, he cursed himself for allowing her to sneak up on him. She continued, "If you're trying to bring the Four under your power, you're not going to succeed." "Lorien; what a pleasssant surprise," the creature's voice dripped with sarcastic venom. "The foressst ssseems to be a little edgy today. Even the treesss seem nervous. Have you been neglecting your responsibilitiessss?" "You think I would not have anticipated your actions? Two of the Four have been found. You cannot hope to win this fight." "You'll excussse me if I keep trying." "How you have managed to find refuge in the place for so long is beyond me. However, mark my words; you may reside within this forest, but you do not belong. I'll see you gone yet, Jailer." "We'll see, Lady of the Golden Wood. We shall certainly see. I'm not done yet, not by a long shot. "Go hide yourself in whatever hole you have claimed as your own, and leave my forest alone, Beast." Oh, how he hated her. His hatred for her was only mirrored by his hatred of humanity. However, he had to obey. She was the master here; he merely took up space. He growled deeply and spat, "As you wish." And with that, the unseen being was gone. After its departure, Lorien breathed a sigh of relief. She had known about this being for quite some time, but it usually stayed away from everything. It preferred to be by itself, but she had known that this creature would bide its time until the perfect opportunity to strike. Time was growing shorter. If the other two had not been found by the end of the Tournament, there would be chaos unlike any the world had seen in almost ten thousand years. If that happened, there would be no hope of recovery. 


End file.
